Addictions
by Athazagoraphobiac
Summary: When Elenas' life has been consumed by addictions, can anyone save her?- OOC,AU. *WARNING* Story contains strong language, substance abuse, graphic smut/lemons. For mature audiences only. Consider yourself warned.
1. Addiction

***Warning*** This story is rated M for a reason. Strong language, substance abuse, and graphic smut/lemons are included. Consider yourself warned now.

*Disclaimer* I do not own characters or anything directly related to _The Vampire Diaries_.

* * *

My fingers trembled as I tried to loop the black thread through the tiny hook of the needle. I had missed 18 times so far. I ran the thread across my tongue again to smooth the frayed ends and tried again. The tip of the thread very slowly began to ease through the hook when suddenly a spasm ran through my hand, causing me to drop both the needle and thread.

"Fuck!" I shouted as I dropped down on my knees to find them.

It had only been a day since my last high, but my heroin addiction was at its strongest and the shakes had already fucking started. I needed to shoot up desperately, but my wallet was empty.

"Just once I'd like something to go fucking right," I mumbled to myself as my hands swept across the dirty alley ground, searching for the sewing needle.

"Hey, baby!"

I sat up on my knees and turned toward the male voice. A guy I recognized by the name of Tyler was strolling toward me. I didn't like him. He was always too cocky.

"What the fuck to do you want?" I snapped. I was a bitch when I was going through withdrawals. Most people recognized the signs and stayed away.

He laughed as he came closer. "I see you're ready for me. Already on your knees." He pawed his junk through his jeans.

"Fuck you," I replied and went back to searching.

He laughed again and squatted beside me. "What cha' looking for?"

"I dropped a needle."

"Whoa, baby, you don't want to use that thing after it's been on this ground."

I closed my eyes to suppress my urge to punch him. "Not that kind of needle," I responded through gritted teeth. "A sewing needle. I have a hole in my jacket pocket."

"You carry a sewing needle around with you?" he asked incredulously.

"It's a travel kit. And yes, I carry it around in my purse." I moved half an inch to the right and as I did, the streetlight shone over my shoulder and glinted off the silver sheen of the needle. "Fuck yes," I whispered to myself and picked it up. Before I had the chance to lose it again, I opened up the travel kit, stuck the needle in its pouch, and put it back in my purse. I stood up and Tyler did the same.

"What do you want, Tyler?" I asked, not even trying to hide the annoyance in my tone.

He glanced over his shoulder, and then looked around me before moving in closer. "I heard you were illin'," he said quietly. His eyes roamed over my body from head to toe. "And by the looks of it, they weren't lying."

By the looks of it? I looked down at my body. Physically, I didn't look any different yet. I mean, of course the drugs made me too thin. My black skinny jeans didn't cling to me like they were supposed to and my leather jacket basically engulfed my upper body, but the withdrawal hadn't changed anything obvious. I wasn't even shaking that bad yet. I narrowed my eyes. "And who's going around saying that? It's only been a day."

He shrugged and dismissed my question. "Just people. But look, back at my place, I scored some sugar if you wanna' do up."

My heartbeat instantly started to race. Yes, I definitely wanted to "do up" but I hid my excitement. Here was my opportunity to get a fix, but one of the first things I learned when I started this game was that people didn't play for free. "I don't have any money and you know that," I answered. "What do you want in return?"

A sickening smirk danced at his lips and he kind of swayed as he shrugged again. "I mean, I don't know. I figured maybe if I did this for you, you would do…_something_ for me. I thought we could figure out the details back at my place."

The muscles in my jaws tightened. Sex. Of course. Only a few times in my life I had stooped low enough to pleasure a man for my drugs, but each of those times were with my boyfriend turned drug dealer. I had never even touched alcohol before getting with him, but very quickly he had me hooked on weed and then cocaine and then my current addiction, heroin. When he had me right where he wanted me, he started refusing to hook me up until I did a little something for him. That game got really old, really fast and I left him.

"I don't do that, Tyler," I finally answered in a flat tone.

He nodded slowly to himself. "I figured you would say that." I watched as he reached around into his back pocket and pulled out a tiny, clear, plastic bag. "If you won't have sex with me, maybe you'll do a little something else?"

My eyes widened at the sight of the bag. I reached out to take it from him, but he jerked it away.

"Nah ah ah," he chided, "Like I said, this is _if_ you do something for me. I mean, this shit ain't cheap."

I glared at him knowing my resolve was failing, especially with the bag not a foot away. "What do you want?"

"Blowjob."

I ground my teeth together as I stared at him. Was I even seriously considering this? If I was being honest with myself, I was. I mean, I'm a fucking heroin addict and the farthest thing from a saint. Seems like sucking him off would be the least of my problems.

"Let me see the bag," I said and held out my hand.

He eyed me suspiciously. "Why?"

"I want to make sure it's not literal sugar, Tyler. I'm not stupid."

He grinned, sensing that he was about to get his way. He tossed the bag to me and I wrapped my hand tightly around the smooth plastic, my body aching to consume what was inside. Going a few hours without the substance made me sick, going a full day without it submerged me in my own personal hell.

Gingerly, I held it in front of my face and frowned at the off-white powder. It wasn't even pure. Was it even worth it then? Degrading myself for a tainted bag of heroin? I rotated it several times as I considered the offer before me.

"So?" he asked slowly. "Do we have a deal or not?"

I stared at the powder for a moment longer before sighing and shoving it into my jacket pocket. Tainted heroin was better than no heroin at all.

He laughed. "Hell yes." His hand went down to his jeans and he began to pull down the zipper.

I closed my eyes and slowly bent to my knees. I was going to make this quick and he was going to be lucky if I didn't bite him.

Just as he was undoing his button, a loud crash echoed off the alley walls behind me and Tyler's head jerked up at the sound. "Shit," he cursed under his breath before turning and taking off running, struggling to keep his unbuttoned, unzipped pants up.

I turned around and saw the lid of a trash can roll in a crescent shape back toward the can it came from before wobbling and falling down, like a spun coin. I searched frantically for whatever had caused Tyler to run away. This town was full of guys worse than Tyler. If Tyler felt the need to run away, then I probably should, too.

Before I made out the figure, I heard his voice. "Elena?"

I sighed and dropped back on my bent knees, relief washing over me.

I heard his footsteps approach and stop behind me. "Please tell me you were not about to do what I'm thinking."

I closed my eyes and took another deep breath. "How can I be of service today, Detective?"

His hand gripped under my elbow suddenly and he pulled me to my feet. He spun me around to face him and I immediately recognized the disapproving look. "How many more highs do you think it'll take to kill you?" he asked bluntly.

I rolled my eyes. "I guess we'll find out when my check from the department comes in." He opened his mouth to respond but I cut him off. "You just don't like the thought of losing your precious C.I. Other than that, Damon, you could care less when I died."

I had been a confidential informant for Mr. Salvatore for nearly a year. One afternoon, my ex-boyfriend took me to a place he called "the warehouse" to get high and then left to get some booze. Luckily for him, he conveniently forgot to pick me back up and the next thing I knew, cops surrounded the place. On me personally, I had two bags of cocaine. I didn't know, however, that the back room was packed floor to ceiling with the substance. I was the only one in the warehouse and the only one to get busted for it.

After hours and hours of interviews with the cops, they finally believed me when I said I had no idea it was there. They then came up with a deal for me that if I helped them catch who did own the drugs in the warehouse, my slate would be wiped clean. A month later, the man was in jail and I no longer had a record.

I agreed to continue helping the detectives out after that, though, in return for money. Each time I gave them a worthwhile tip, they gave me $500.

He sighed. "I'm not concerned with losing my C.I, Miss Gilbert, I've got plenty more, but I've already told you that the next time you get busted, you're going to jail. There will be no more deals."

"I promise you, Mr. Salvatore… that I won't get busted," I responded, and leaned back against the wall, folding my arms across my chest and bending one leg back to rest against the bricks. I could feel my muscles starting to tremor again and this position would keep me steady.

His ice blue eyes held my gaze and I could feel an entirely different shiver creep across my spine.

Damon Salvatore was one of the youngest cops to make detective in the history of Mystic Falls. He was only four years older than me, 23. Most of the guys his age were still rookies. Damon, however, had helped nab a serial killer that had run untouched for twenty years, successfully closing eighteen cold case files, during the first six months of his law enforcement career. He had been on television and everything.

But besides the obvious way he excelled at his job, physically he surpassed even the hottest male models. He was often wearing black, like now, and it suited him just fine. His v-neck shirts always hung just tight enough to reveal the chiseled outlines of his toned abs and whenever he moved, the muscles in his arms flexed. His cheekbones were high and the structure of his jaw was angled to perfection and a near permanent 5 o'clock shadow decorated it. His lips were soft looking with a slight pout and his eyes were nothing short of entrancing. His dark brown hair was always perfectly messy with a few pieces falling into his eyes.

If he wasn't a cop, I just might have tried to date him.

But the fact remained he was a cop. And a nosy one at that. The more he got to know me, the more he started getting into my business and taking note of my addiction. He had threatened just about all of my dealers, making it that much more difficult for me to score.

He shook his head slightly and exhaled once more before reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a picture. He held it in front of me. "Do you know her?"

I looked down and instantly recognized the girl. "Yes."

"Who is she?"

"Vicki Donovan," I answered honestly. As I stared at the paper, white spots appeared across the page and I felt the signs of a headache coming on. Just perfect. I needed to get rid of Damon fairly quickly. Usually during my withdrawals, I got the shakes, then a headache, then a wave of nausea followed by intense vomiting and more muscle spasms. I needed to use the stuff in my pocket before it got to that point.

"When's the last time you saw her?"

"I don't know."

"Think about it, Elena," he prompted.

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose with my thumb and index finger. Damon really needed to leave.

I tried to focus on his question. When was the last time I saw Vicki Donovan? I sighed. "I don't know. Maybe a week ago? I visited a friends," also known as my dealer, "and she had been there."

He lowered the picture. "What was she doing at this…_friends?_" He knew it wasn't just a friend. He always knew.

I thought back to that night. I had literally been at the house for maybe five minutes; just in long enough to get my drugs. "She was…" I tried to picture her face in the house to recall what she had been doing. My dealer had been on the couch in front of the coffee table with his supplies, his brother was in the kitchen; I heard him laughing, and Vicki had been…_Oh yeah._ All I had seen of Vicki really was her feet sticking out from behind the kitchen wall. She had been on her knees. And by the way my dealers brother said her name, I'm pretty positive she wasn't cleaning anything up, just making more of a mess. "She was _hanging out_ with my friends brother."

He narrowed his eyes. "Just like you were hanging out tonight?"

My lips pressed into a tight line. I didn't like being compared to Vicki Donovan. She was more into this shit than I was. She would do abso-fucking-lutely anything for a hit. I was nothing like her…or at least I liked to think I wasn't.

"That was the last time you saw her?" he continued. I nodded. "Well, I'm gonna' need the name of your friend and his brother." He pulled out a pen and a small notebook.

I bit down on my lower lip, something I did whenever I started to get stressed. If I gave him their names, I was positive I'd no longer have a reputable dealer. "I don't know their names," I lied.

He looked up from the notebook with a raised eyebrow. "You don't know their names?"

"No."

He tapped on the notebook with his pen a few times and I knew I wouldn't like whatever he was thinking about. "Tell me their names, Elena, or I will arrest you for prostitution."

My jaw dropped. "Prostitution?" I shouted. "Damon, look at me, you know I don't have any money! If I were a prostitute, wouldn't I have money?" I shoved off the wall and started to walk away from him. I was done with this conversation. Damon would be lucky if I ever gave his department another tip again.

As I walked past him, I heard a soft tap on the ground and we both looked down.

Damon bent down and picked up the small baggie between two fingers. Fuck. I forgot about the hole in my pocket.

He stood back up, his eyes still on the bag. "Prostitutes don't necessarily work for money, Miss Gilbert."

I spun around to continue walking and as I did, a strong wave of disorientation hit me, causing me to wobble and hit the wall. Damon moved quickly and his strong hands gripped my upper shoulders to steady me.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, moving to stand in front of me.

"Yeah, yeah," I responded, waving off his hands. "I'm fine."

Before I could move again, a blinding white light was being shone into my eyes and I lifted my hands to shield it. "What the fuck, Damon?"

The light clicked off and Damon lowered his pocket-sized flashlight. "Fuck, Elena, you're going through withdrawals aren't you?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine, Damon." I tried to walk around him again but he matched my movements to block my path again.

"You know, if the process has already started, we could get you to a clinic and get you dried out."

I rolled my eyes. "You would love that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, I would, actually," he answered.

I looked up into his eyes and my brow furrowed. "Why do you even care, Detective? Do you put this much effort into all of your C.I.'s?"

His eyes fell to the ground. "You just remind me of someone I knew."

"Ah," I said with a nod. "Ex-girlfriend? What, was she all strung out, too?"

He looked back to me. "Something like that."

"And I'm guessing you weren't able to help her."

He shook his head, confirming my guess.

I put on my most friendly smile. "Well, Detective, as much as that sucks, I'm not your girlfriend. I'm no one to you, really, so I don't need your help and you have no obligation to help me." I took a step to the side and started forward again. I needed to find Tyler. After a conversation like this and Damon taking my small stash, I was willing to do just about anything to get a new bag.

I heard him sigh. "If I give this back to you, would you tell me the names of the two men?"

I stopped and turned to face him. Was he serious? A cop was offering to give me back my heroin? I nodded slowly.

He walked over to me and handed me the bag before taking back out his pen and notebook.

I stared at him. This just didn't feel right. He had just handed me the bag back. Just like that.

"Their names?" he asked, looking down at the paper.

"Mason and Richard Lockwood." As I said their names, I thought back to Tyler. These men were his relatives. If…when they got arrested, I'm sure he'd figure out it was me who gave up their names.

He wrote down the names, flipped the notebook closed, and pocketed it all again in his jacket. "You know, Elena, you don't have to live like this," he said as he looked back to me.

I pulled my lower lip in between my teeth once more and remained quiet.

He nodded to himself. "Well, Miss Gilbert, it was nice doing business with you again. I'll put in the request for your new check tomorrow."

"Thanks," I answered quietly.

He nodded once as a response then started past me. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon, Elena."

"Always a pleasure, Detective," I muttered, looking down at the bag in my hand.

Once he was gone, I picked up my purse that had been sitting against the wall. My headache was growing stronger and I could feel the nausea creeping up. Quickly, I rummaged through the bag for the pouch that held a razor blade. Usually my preferred method of taking the heroin was by injecting it, but I didn't have time for all of that. When I found the pouch, I pulled out a rectangular compact mirror and set it up on a trashcan. I poured the contents of the baggie out on the mirror and ran the blade through the grains quickly, creating a fine off-white powder. With a few scrapes of the blade, a line was made with the substance.

I stared down at it and an odd feeling washed over me.

This was my life. It had been reduced to me snorting heroin off a trashcan in the middle of an alley during the dead of night. I was even going to give a prick head to get the shit. What the hell was wrong with me? How could I have let myself get this way?

I closed my eyes and bent down to the can, pressing one finger against my right nostril. It didn't matter how I got here. All that remained was that I _was _here and I didn't have anything else going for me other than this white line.

With a deep inhale and a sweeping motion of my head, the powder was coating the inside of my nose and I basked in the burning sensation. I stood up and took a deep inhale of the fresh air around me. Snorting the drug didn't give me the same kind of rush I would feel if I injected it – it often took 15 minutes for me to feel the effects at all when snorting – but at the end of the day, it didn't matter how it got into my body as long as it did.

I turned around and pressed my back against the wall, slowly dropping down to the concrete.

I stared up at the sky and watched the dim twinkling of stars that made their way through the smog as I waited for my high.

Everything looked so peaceful up there. In space, there was nothing but calm. My life had been lacking of calm for a long time. The only way I knew how to get it back was to get high. That always made everything better.

As I watched the tiny lights, I could feel my pulse start to race and my brow furrowed. Usually my body went numb when I got high. My heartbeat would slow and an ocean of serenity would crash around me.

But not this time. My heart felt like it was trying to jump out of my chest and the tiny lights were starting to glow more and more bright. I could feel sweat start to coat my palms and an odd whirring noise was echoing in my mind.

Something was very, very wrong.

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**A/N:** Hey, guys! I had an idea for a new story so I went ahead and wrote out the first chapter, even though _The Obscure Line_ is not complete yet.

Let me know what you think! It's tooootally different than the usual stories I write. I'm excited to get reviews and hear your thoughts.

If you'd like to see the banner for this story (which shows the alley and Elena and Damon meeting) go to writingtoberemembered(dot)blogspot(dot)com .(Replace the (dot) with an actual period. Lol)

Also, if you'd like updates on my stories, follow me on twitter: APhobiac.

To all my new readers who find me because of this story, hello! Welcome to the family. :)

See you guys next chapter.


	2. Treatment

My eyes shot open and I gasped for air. An intense white light blared down at me and I had to shield my eyes. What was happening?

As my pupils adjusted to the intrusion, a room came into focus; a room I was not familiar with.

I sat up and looked around. The walls were plain and white. Directly in front of me was a large, metal looking door. I was lying in a full size bed with white sheets and a fluffy white comforter. The headboard was attached to the wall behind me with two lamps extending from it. There was a three-tiered side-dresser by the bed and it was bolted to the ground. Now that I noticed it, everything was attached to the wall or floor in some way. The desk to my left was even built into the wall.

A floor-length window was to the right of the desk and my stomach twisted into a knot as I realized there were bars on it.

Oh. My. God. I was in jail.

I jumped out of the bed and looked down at myself. Something wasn't right. If I was in jail, shouldn't I be wearing an orange jumpsuit? I was wearing a white tank top with white jogging pants. Shouldn't the bed be a cold, hard metal bunk bed type thing? Shouldn't everything be gray?

Everything was white around me. It was blinding and…nauseating.

Before I realized it was happening, I was on my knees and vomit was projecting from my mouth, burning my throat on the way up. Normally I would search for a trashcan first, but I was caught off guard, so of course the vomit covered the pristine white marbled floor. I threw up until everything that might have been in my stomach was out, and then some. The dry heaves felt like kicks to my stomach and I felt my eyes water.

The heavy metal door swung open in front of me and I heard the voice of a woman. "Oh no," she said to herself as she ran over to me. Quickly, she used her hands to swoop my hair up and out of my face as she waited for me to be finished.

As soon as my stomach muscles stopped contracting, I crawled back away from the vomit and leaned against the side-dresser, wiping at my mouth with the back of my hand.

"Where the hell am I?" My voice was groggy and dry.

The woman ignored me and walked to my side to press a button on the wall above my head.

"Yes?" Another voice filled the room and I searched for an intercom, but I couldn't find it. It must blend in with the walls.

"Liz, we need a janitor in room 304, please."

"Right away."

A beep sounded to indicate their connection through the intercom was broken and the woman turned back to me. "Come on dear, let's get you cleaned up."

"Where am I?" I repeated. I wasn't going anywhere with anyone until I got some answers.

The last thing I remember was sitting in the alleyway, waiting for my high to kick in. But it never did.

She smiled softly at me. "How about I tell you _while _we clean you up?"

I looked back to the floor and realized her offer was probably the only way I was going to get answers. And besides that, this room was starting to smell and I really wanted new clothes.

I reached up to grab the edge of the desk and I tried pulling myself up, but suddenly my muscles started to shake and I dropped back to the floor. The woman rushed to my side, placing her hands firmly under my armpits and pulling me up.

"There ya' go," she smiled once I was steady and on my feet.

"Who are you?" I asked. I felt I deserved to know at least that much. Here I was puking on someone's floor and feeling pathetic while not even knowing what was going on around me.

Her smile was kind of comforting as she wrapped her arm around my waist and helped me start forward. She obviously didn't even care she was getting vomit on her. "I'm Jenna."

Jenna led me down a hallway, entirely white, of course, and into an elegant bathroom. She sat me down on a sofa that was in the corner.

"So, you're like extra, extra, _extraaa_ small, right?" she asked as she began to dig through a cabinet.

I felt my face burn with a blush. I knew I looked unhealthy, no need in pointing it out. "I guess," I responded softly.

As I watched her, the top of my right hand started burning and I looked down at it. I was scratching it with my left hand and I hadn't even noticed it. The action was completely unconscious. Small drops of blood began to drizzle out in three long lines, obviously made by my own nails. How the hell had that happened? I don't even remember it itching.

"Here they are," Jenna nearly sang, and spun around to face me, holding a new pair of clothing, exactly like the ones I was already wearing. She glanced down at my hand and her smile faded into a frown. She turned back around and opened the cabinet below the one holding the clothes and pulled out a tube of Neosporin and a box of Band-Aids.

"So where am I?" I asked once more.

She walked over and sat beside me on the couch. "The Mystic Falls Rehabilitation Clinic," she answered as she took my hand and started cleaning it with the Neosporin.

My breath caught in my chest and I stood up. "What? How the fuck did I get here?"

Calmly, Jenna stood up. "Sit back down, Elena," she commanded in a tone that left no room for argument.

I bit down on my lower lip and did as she said. She sat back down and began placing Band-Aids on the cuts.

"You were brought here by a Mr. Salvatore."

My lips parted as my jaw went slack. "What?" I gasped quietly. When had that happened? I specifically remember watching Damon leave.

She nodded. "I'll tell you all about it as soon as you get changed." She patted the top of my hand as she placed the last Band-Aid on it. "Good as new," she said to herself and smiled up at me. She was such a pleasant woman. It made me uncomfortable. "So, I'll just leave the clothes here with you. I'll be right outside and you can call for me when you're through." She stood up and laid the clothes beside me on the sofa before walking away, shutting the door behind her.

As soon as she was out of sight, a plan formed in my mind. There was no way in hell I was going to stay here. I wasn't ready to do this.

To my right was a large window, and luckily for me, there were no bars on it. I hurriedly changed from my vomit-stained clothes to the new pair and ran over to it. I flipped over the latch and pushed up the pane. As I stuck my head out, my heart stuttered in my chest. We were on the third floor.

The wind whipped my hair into my face as I looked to the left and then to the right. To my left was a drainage pipe. Normally that would work, but not from the third floor. Several windows down to my right was a rusted staircase, zigzagging down to the ground below. That would be beyond perfect if it weren't so far away. I leaned out farther to see if there was a ledge stretching between the windows. I nearly smiled when I saw that there was one, however it was extremely narrow; maybe a foot and a half in width.

Knowing this was going to be my only opportunity, I decided to take the chance.

To a normal person, I would seem like an idiot. Who wouldn't accept help when it was literally being shoved at them? I just couldn't do it, though. Not yet.

My muscles were aching and my head was hurting and I was starting my decent to reality and I just wasn't ready to face any of this yet. The only way to make these things go away was by taking another hit. And I needed to do it soon.

I climbed out onto the ledge, stood on wobbling legs, and pressed my back against the wall. I kept my eyes straight ahead, knowing that if I looked down I would fall.

That's kind of how I felt about my reality. If I stayed high, everything would be okay. Trying to glance down would be detrimental to all that I had built.

Slowly, I inched my way toward the staircase. As soon as my hand was able to touch the rusted railing, I climbed over onto the stairs and let out the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

I moved cautiously down the stairs, not sure how long it had been since they were last used. Just as I was reaching the second level, I heard my name being shouted above me.

"Elena!" Jenna yelled from the window. "Elena, come back!" she demanded.

Unfortunately for her, I was too far away to be _made_ to do anything, so I started taking the steps two at a time and at a much quicker pace. A place like this was sure to have security guards and I'm sure there was an intercom button somewhere in that bathroom.

Sooner than expected, my feet were touching the soft, dew-tinted grass and I was running.

My body felt odd as I ran. It had been a long time since I'd had this much physical activity, and I wasn't entirely sure my body could handle it.

I pushed the thought away, however, and forced my legs to move. I could rest when I was away from here.

"Elena!" The male voice caught me off guard and I stumbled a bit when I turned my head toward the sound.

Damon was running after me and it seemed at a much faster pace.

I tried to quicken my speed, but as I saw the edge of the property come into view, I was shoved to the ground, two strong hands holding me down.

"Fuck!" I screamed. "Let me go, Damon!" I twisted my body and kicked at him, struggling to get away from his grasp.

He flipped me onto my back and pinned my arms down by my side and used one knee to immobilize my kicking legs.

"Stop, Elena!" he said roughly.

"Fuck you!" I spat back. When I was angry, or annoyed, or sad…or anything, really, my vocabulary tended to dwindle down to a few choice words.

He stayed firm as I fought against him, his hold never easing up, until an odd tremor hit me and my muscles began to spasm all at once.

I felt my eyes roll into the back of my head and my legs and arms tensed in straight lines.

What was happening to me?

A whistling filled my ears and it felt like cane sticks were being beaten along my skin.

The sensation was frighteningly painful, but it only lasted a few seconds. When it faded away, my body was left limp in the grass, no longer needing Damon to keep it still.

I gasped for air and waited for my eyes to adjust to the light around me.

"What happened?" I tried asking, but the sound seemed to be trapped in my throat.

Damon's face came into focus and he was staring down at me with sympathy in his eyes.

"Why do you do this to yourself?" he said softly before scooping his arms under my body and cradling me against his chest.

When I realized he was carrying me back, I wanted to fight back, but I just didn't have the strength. Instead, I resorted to pleading.

"No, Damon," I whispered, hoping the sound would reach his ears.

He looked down at me and his gaze gave me a chill. He seemed so concerned, so worried. It was unnerving. "I have to, Elena," he responded simply.

As we approached the large double doors that led into the facility, Jenna came running out. "Elena! Why would you do something like that? That was so dangerous! And your body just isn't ready for all of that," she reprimanded.

"Where's her room?" Damon asked as he walked past her and into the large foyer.

"Third floor," Jenna sighed. "Come on, we'll take the elevator."

The three of us rode up to the third floor in silence. My mind was numb the entire way. I was so close to freedom; so close to being away from here. But Damon just had to interfere. He always had to interfere. And what was that with my body? That had never happened before. I didn't know how to feel about it or what to think.

As the doors chimed open, Jenna motioned with her hand down the hallway. "She's in 304, Detective. I've got to go fill out an attempted escape report and let our security know she's back in her room. I'll be down in just a little bit with her medicine."

Damon made his way down the hallway and walked into the room I had woken to earlier – though now it smelled strongly of Pine-Sol – and laid me on the bed.

I placed my palms flat on the comforter and pushed myself up to a sitting position, though the movement was oddly difficult. The muscles in my arms shook under the weight of my body and I instantly became dizzy. Very slowly, I moved back to lean against the headboard.

Damon was pacing the floor beside the bed slowly, his eyes cast down. I took a moment to appraise his appearance and demeanor today. He was wearing dark, almost black jeans, with a buttoned-up, striped gray shirt with the sleeves rolled up almost to his elbows. His detective badge hung around his neck on a silver chain. The muscles in his jaw were tensing and relaxing repeatedly; an obvious sign he didn't like whatever he was thinking about. He moved smoothly across the room, but his body seemed stiff. It sort of looked like he was angry.

After several minutes of silence, I decided to speak up. "Why am I here?"

"Is that a serious question?" he asked as he continued to pace.

My lips parted slightly as his rudeness took me aback. "No, it's a stupid question, but I still want to know the answer," I finally snapped back.

He stopped moving and turned to look at me. His eyes almost made me wish he had continued pacing. The usual, calm iciness of them were gone, and they were dark and cold. He was definitely angry.

"You're here, Miss Gilbert, because I found you having a seizure in the middle of an alley last night."

My brow furrowed. "What?"

"Yeah," he nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets, "a seizure. You know, one of those things you_ just _had?"

My jaw dropped. "That was a seizure?"

"Yes, that was a seizure," he repeated sardonically.

"I've never had a seizure before," I muttered to myself.

"That's what drugs will do to you," he said. "Especially drugs mixed with an excessive amount of bleach."

Once again, my jaw fell slack. Did Tyler know that was in the drug? I mean, of course bleach would be around the drugs; it was used to clean the needles and even actually used to make meth, but it definitely shouldn't have found its way into the heroin.

"So, I found you and brought you here," he continued.

I looked back to him. "Why?"

"Because your only other option was jail, Elena."

"I won't stay here, you know," I stated quietly.

"Actually, you will," he corrected, sitting down at the foot of the bed. "You're not here voluntarily. You're here because the _state_ is demanding it of you. If you leave this facility, Miss Gilbert, you _will_ go to prison."

I glared up at him, anger seeping into my veins for Damon and this situation. "Why do you keep doing this to me? Why can't you just leave me alone and let me live my life?"

He snorted. "Life? That's what you call a life, Elena? That's just death happening slowly."

I rolled my eyes. "Why won't you just leave me alone?"

Damon groaned and bent over so that his elbows were on his knees and his head was in his palms. This was the most troubled I think I've ever seen him.

"Do you know what could've happened to you last night?" he asked quietly.

"You've already made me well aware of the fact I could've died," I responded dryly.

"Exactly," he sat up and turned toward me; his eyes were pained. "You could have died, Elena. And because _I _gave you those drugs back. Or if you didn't die, someone else could've found you in that alley. Do you know why I was asking about Vicki Donovan? She's dead, Elena. Murdered. And we're pretty sure by the guys you told me about. What if they would have found you? A girl passed out and, even if awake, too weak to fight. Like serving you up on a plate."

My brow pulled together in confusion. Vicki was dead? And…did Damon blame himself for what happened to me? "Damon, it's not your fault I had a seizure," I said slowly.

He stood and started pacing again. "It is," he nodded to himself. "I had them. I had taken them away. And what did I do with them? I gave them back just so I could get some names out of you. Who fucking does that?"

My heart was starting to beat uncomfortably in my chest as he continued rambling about what he should've done or not done.

What was happening here?

Last night I had been in an alley searching for a high. Besides that, things seemed simple. But today…today I was in a rehab facility because I took _tainted_ drugs. I knew they looked fucking bad. And what was happening with Damon? Very quickly it seemed he went from the local detective to my protector…to a man who cared _way_ too much for a person he barely knew. I couldn't understand his reasoning. So, I reminded him of his ex-girlfriend. Shouldn't that warn him to stay away?

"Damon why do you care so much?" I blurted, interrupting his self-scorning. I had asked that question last night and got an unsatisfying answer.

He stopped moving and looked at me. "I already told you," he said simply.

I shook my head. "And I don't like what you told me."

He narrowed his eyes and I saw his jaw muscles tense again. "What do you want me to say, Elena?"

"I want the truth, Damon!" I nearly shouted. "Why the fuck won't you go away?"

He pulled out the chair at the desk and sat down. "How long have we known each other?" he asked.

"What does that have to do with this conversation?" I asked, finding his question random and unwarranted.

"We've known each other for like a year now," he went on, answering his own question. "During this entire year, 99% of the time, where is it that I've come to find you?"

I didn't understand the question so I told him as much.

"In that damn alley, Elena. It's just about guaranteed that you will be in the alley, getting high or already high."

"Damon, I don't understand how any of this answers my question."

"You know what I go home to every night?" he continued, ignoring I'd even spoken. "A house. A nice, big house with TV's and chandeliers and a place to fucking shower. And you know what I think of half the time? You. In that fucking alley." He moved from the chair to kneel beside me on the floor. "You deserve better than an alley, Elena. And after knowing you for a year, I'm going to start feeling concerned. It's inevitable."

"So, what does that mean? You like me?" I asked, feeling more confused than ever.

"Yeah, I fucking like you," he retorted. "For a long while now, and I can't stand to see you like that. On your knees about to fucking blow a guy for what? Shit that causes you to have seizures. You're only here because I want you to get better. I don't understand why you can't let yourself get better."

"I'm perfectly fine with how things are, Damon." It was a lie. I wasn't perfectly fine with any of it. I've just learned how to deal.

Damon sighed and moved back to the chair, running a hand over his face. "That's exactly what she said, you know?"

"What who said?"

"Katherine." As he spoke the girls' name, I watched a new kind of sorrow seep into his eyes.

My anger toward Damon subsided slightly into pity. "Is that the girl I remind you of?" Slowly I turned my body on the bed, dangling my legs off the side, so that I was closer to him in the chair.

He nodded and looked at the floor, a far away daze washing over his expression. "You have the same eyes," he motioned with a lazy hand to his face, "as her. They're brown, but…man, they're so deep, so…_knowing_. I'm always interested to find out just how much they know." Although he was saying "you" to me, I was positive he was picturing this Katherine girl in his mind. He no longer even seemed present in the room. "They always know too much, really. So much it gets you into trouble."

"What happened to her?" I asked softly.

He broke free of his reverie and looked back to me. "She died," he said flatly.

I refrained from rolling my eyes; I had gathered that much. "How?"

He closed his eyes and bowed his head slightly; obviously bringing up her memory was difficult for him. I knew how he felt; I never wanted to think of my past. When he opened his eyes again, his blue eyes were frigid and sad.

"I met Katherine in high school," he started slowly. "She…was the love of my life, really." A small smile touched his lips as he thought of her during those times. "We were great together. When we graduated, we moved off to college together. I majored in criminal justice, she majored in philosophy." As he spoke the word "philosophy" an odd scowl replaced the smile. "She _really_ got into the whole philosophy thing. Started hanging out with the other philosophy majors. She called them 'hippies'. I just called them junkies. When she started smoking pot I didn't really think anything about it. I mean, that's what college is for, right? Experimentation? And because I wasn't paying attention, I didn't realize when she got into the harder stuff."

My jaw tightened. I knew _exactly_ how that whole thing went and where this story was headed. Honestly, I didn't even really realize when I myself got into the 'harder stuff.' It happened so gradually. It all begins with carefree use and then it hits you like a freight train – the need to use where it's not so carefree anymore.

"Elena, I watched her…the love of my life… turn into…a _monster._" His gaze became so strong, so intense, it was staggering. I wanted to look away; I no longer wanted to witness his pain, but it was like watching a car crash – captivating. "She made damn sure that drug was more important than me. And I tried," he looked back to the floor, his brow furrowing, and he groaned quietly, "goddamnit, Elena, I _tried_ my_ hardest_ to help her. I tried so much that it made _me_ sick! But she just wouldn't listen." He eyes met mine again. "She told me she was perfectly fine with how things were."

Inwardly, I cringed hearing the words I had just used myself.

"And so she continued to use and she became…cruel and condescending and malicious. She just wasn't Katherine anymore. She hated everything. She hated life, she hated herself…she hated me."

I wanted to reach and just…touch him. I wanted to let him know that I was here for him. The sensation was odd and confused me.

"And I couldn't do anything about it. Legally, anyway." The sorrow quickly faded away from his eyes and he seemed to come back to reality. He stood up and pushed the chair under the desk. "But with you, however, that's a different story. I can, legally, do something now. So, Elena, at least for the next thirty days, you will be undergoing treatment for your addiction. I will personally see to it that you complete the program and we'll figure everything else out from there."

I found myself getting angry with him again. The mood swings were starting to make me tired. "Well, what about your addiction, Damon?"

His brow pulled together in confusion. "I don't understand what you're talking about."

I stood up, holding on to the headboard for dear life as my legs shook. I tried my best to appear strong. "Katherine was your addiction. And normally an addiction is something that is damaging emotionally and physically. That's what Katherine was, right? You said so yourself; you helped her so much it made you sick. Now that she's gone, I suppose I'm the new addiction. It's like when you find a girl in need, you _have _to do whatever it takes to make her better. Sounds like an addiction to me."

He rolled his eyes. "So what you're saying is I'm addicted to helping people?"

Well, when he put it like that I guess it didn't sound so bad. I simply nodded.

He chuckled. "I think I'll live with the addiction, then."

"Maybe you should get treatment. I mean, they have clinics for codependency." Me telling him this was a long shot, really. I was almost hoping he would just be like, 'Oh, okay, Elena. You're right. I have a problem that I need to address,' then leave me the hell alone.

I watched as he tilted his head to one side and then slowly started toward me. I wasn't expecting him to come closer and I unconsciously shrunk back against the wall, my heart starting to beat a bit more quickly. I didn't understand what was happening; was I about to have another seizure…or was I reacting to his nearness.

He stopped barely a foot away from me and his cool breath washed over my face, causing me to shudder. "Elena," he started softly, "it doesn't matter what you say. I'm pretty much here for the long haul. There's not anything you can do about it." He lifted a hand and gently ran his fingers along my jaw line. A burning sensation followed the movement. "I honestly wasn't planning on telling you any of this. I mean, I figured one day I would let you know how I felt, but…" he shrugged, "…I guess there's no better time than the present."

Before I recognized the appearance of lust in his eyes, he lowered his head and gently pressed his lips against mine. I inhaled sharply through my nose and my fingers gripped the headboard harder, sending shooting pains through my fingers.

He smiled against my lips at my reaction and pulled away. "I'll see you tomorrow, Miss Gilbert."

I stood shocked and confused as I watched him walk away.

My mind had already asked the question a thousand times, but once again, what the hell was happening?

This did not seem real. It all felt like a dream or some fucked up kind of prank. Everything was happening too quickly.

Yesterday, Damon was simply Detective Salvatore to me. I mean, yeah, I had noticed how he was way too nosy and into my business, but I never thought it was because the man felt something for me. Today he was just…Damon. I had never met him before without it being under the pretense of him being a cop. Today, though, I really got the see _him_.

And I kind of liked it.

My body definitely liked it.

I sat back down on the bed and heard Jenna walk into the room, but I was too absorbed in my own thoughts to pay her any attention. When I felt the prick in my upper arm, a surprised squeak escaped my lips.

I looked up at her with wide, shocked eyes, and she smiled softly. "Don't worry, dear, it's just to help you sleep. Your body is really going to notice the lack of drugs within the next few hours and we try to help you get through it the best we can."

Oh, yeah. Withdrawals. I hadn't even really thought much about the drug…or the lack of the drug since all of this new Damon information had popped up. I had been too preoccupied. Now that she mentioned it, however, I did feel a little nauseous and my head was pounding.

Small spots of black speckled my vision and I felt my eyelids becoming droopy.

"That's it, sweetie," Jenna cooed. Her voice was echoing and sounded far away. She placed her hands on my shoulders and lightly pushed me back on the bed. "Just try to sleep it off."

I tried to hold on to my thoughts as I felt unconsciousness sneaking up on me. I wanted to figure out what was happening; not sleep. But whatever Jenna had given me made sure that wasn't going to happen.

I was out cold before my head even touched my pillow.

* * *

**A/N:** For photos of Elena's room, visit my blog: writingtoberemembered(dot)blogspot(dot)com

Let me know what you thought of the chapter!

I am absolutely overwhelmed by the responses from the first chapter. I'm so glad the story has been well received so far.

Also, all of the information in this story stems from simple research. I personally do not know anyone with a drug problem and have never gone through anything like it before, so if some information is wrong or uncharacteristic of the situation, then that's just how it's going to be. I try to make everything as accurate as possible to fit my story, but if it doesn't fit, then I change it.

See you guys next chapter!


	3. Escape

Day 1

I paced the small confines of my bedroom, scratching profusely at my hands and arms. My head was pounding with a headache that made me dizzy and my muscles were tensing with rapid cramps. Hot and cold flashes were hitting me like I had an on/off switch and a kid was playing with it.

Across the room, a silver tray with oatmeal had been splattered against the wall and along the floor, the result of my earlier outburst with Jenna. No one had bothered coming to clean it yet, most likely because they didn't want to encounter me, but the mess was simply pissing me off more.

My mood was bouncing around the room every other minute. Sometimes I found myself angry and hostile while at other times I was the most depressed I'd ever been.

I needed to get high. That was the bottom line. It had been nearly 48 hours since the last time and I was quickly becoming convinced that I was going to die if I didn't shoot up soon.

Someone knocked at the door and the sound echoed in my mind, causing me to groan and squat down in the corner of the room, holding my head in my hands.

The metal door squeaked open and I heard Jenna's voice. "Elena, it's nearly noon. I know you weren't hungry this morning, but would you like some lunch?"

"Fuck off," I glared up at her.

She narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. "Elena, we had this discussion earlier. You will not speak to me in that manner. Do you understand?"

I stood tall again and turned to lean on my desk. "Fuck. Off," I repeated, enunciating the words more clearly.

Jenna let out a deep sigh before slamming the door and stalking off.

As soon as she did, I got a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Where was she going? Who was she going to get? Would she get the medicine that put me to sleep again?

My hands trembled. I didn't want to be forced to sleep again. I didn't like it the first time. I had nightmares all night long and I couldn't wake up.

Flashes of my parents haunted me throughout the night and in my dreams I kept screaming and screaming for them to go away, but they never would.

Jenna was going to make me sleep again.

I ran toward the door and started banging my clenched fists against the metal. "Jenna! Jenna!" I screamed.

I looked through the small window in the door and saw Jenna running toward my room. Quickly she unlocked the door and opened it.

"What is it, Elena?" she questioned as she tried catching her breath.

"I'm sorry! I'll eat! I promise, I'll eat! Just don't put me to sleep again! Don't! Please, please, don't!" I began to beg with her.

Jenna sighed and placed her hands on either side of my shoulders, lightly pushing me back into the room.

"Elena, it's too early for you to sleep. I'm not going to give you the medicine during the day."

My eyes grew wide. "But you will tonight? No, no, no, please, don't!" Tears prickled at my eyelids.

Jenna led me to the bed and I sat down, grasping the sheets and pulling them to my face so that I could sob into them.

"Elena!" Jenna sighed with exasperation, attempting to pry the sheets from my gripping fingers. "Elena, it's okay, stop crying." It sounded as if she was speaking to a child.

"No!" I continued to cry. "I don't want to sleep, Jenna!"

She shook her head slightly. "Elena, this is simply another symptom of your withdrawals. You're panicking for no reason."

I dropped the sheets in my lap and looked up at her, sniffling as my tears stopped. "What?"

She nodded. "Symptoms of your withdrawal include mood swings, panic attacks, depression. I'm sure you're experiencing all of this right now, but you need to remind yourself it's the drug taking over your body and that everything is really okay."

A new wave of sadness hit me and I began to cry again. I no longer had control of myself. "Everything is not okay!" I sobbed, grabbing the sheets again. "I don't feel good, Jenna! I'm hurting!" I turned back toward her and grabbed her white nursing shirt. "Jenna, I need to get high. Please, please, please. Just this once. I swear I won't do it again. Please, Jenna."

She grabbed my wrists with her hands and forcefully ripped me away from her clothes. "No," was all she said before she turned away and left the room.

I rushed over to the door again and started pulling and shaking the handle. "Please!" I screamed, tears pouring over my cheeks. "Please, please, please," I pleaded with the Jenna, with the door, with anyone that would listen.

A tremor hit my legs and I was forced to the ground, my forehead leaning against the cold metal door. As they shook I let out another scream; this time simply out of frustration.

* * *

Day 2

My eyes were red and puffy as I stared up at my ceiling. The day before I had cried pretty consistently until around midnight. Just before 12 AM, Jenna walked into my room with two large security guards.

When I saw the shiny tip of the needle in her hand, I instantly began to scream and throw whatever I could get my hands onto. I bit the arm of one of the guards as he grabbed me and kicked the other one in the nuts before they finally had me under control.

I hurled every curse word I knew at the three staff members, even telling Jenna I fucking hated her as she stuck the needle into my arm. I feel asleep nearly instantly.

The night held just as many nightmares as the day before, only this time they were worse. Instead of flashes of my parents, I had full-length scenes played out before me.

My mother being tied to a chair by a masked man. My father lying on our kitchen floor in a pool of his own blood. My baby brother being shoved into a closet and slapped across the face.

When I woke again, my body had gone numb. I no longer had the will to live, much less move from where I was lying.

When Jenna had come in with breakfast and then lunch, I ignored whatever it was she was saying and remained still.

My body continued to shake and tremor and seize as I lay there. I would simply close my eyes and either wait for it to be over or for it to kill me.

Twice I had felt the urge to puke, but again, I stayed still. Both instances had resulted in dry heaves, but I hoped I would throw up and it would choke me.

I could feel my eyes burning and sweat was beading along my hairline, indicating I was running a fever. I didn't care enough to mention it to Jenna.

That was how I spent the entire day; lying there, hoping I was going to die soon.

It was nearing evening when Jenna returned with dinner.

"Elena," she said softly, this time walking over to the bedside. "Honey, it's time for dinner. You haven't eaten anything it three days."

"Nor had water. Won't that kill me?" I asked flatly.

"The medicine we give you fulfills your bodies minimum need for water," she responded.

"Well, shit," I muttered in a still lifeless tone.

She sighed. "I'm going to leave your food right here. I expect it to be gone when I return. We would hate you put you on feeding tubes."

I lolled my head over to the side to look at her. "You might want to order up those tubes, then," I said, then tilted my head back to the ceiling.

Jenna rolled her eyes and walked away, closing the door loudly behind her.

As the smell of the food wafted below my nose, a wave of nausea hit me again and my body lurched forward as my stomach muscles contracted. I heaved a few times before my stomach finally settled down and I moved up to lean against the headboard.

I looked over to the sickening food to see what had caused the urge to puke. It was a plate full of several types of meats. I was certain they were meant to soak up the remaining fluids in my body that held the drug. Beside the plate was a small bowl of mashed potatoes, peas, and a roll. A large glass of water topped it all off.

As my eyes roamed over the tray, they landed on the glinting edge of a butter knife.

The thought formed itself in my mind as soon as I saw the utensil.

Currently, I had nothing under control in my life. I couldn't even control my own bodily functions for the most part.

I had hoped fate would just take over and do the job for me, but since that wasn't happening, I decided this was something I could control.

With a weak and unsteady hand, I grabbed the knife and moved to where the corner of my bed met the corner of the room. I rotated it, searching for the sharpest part.

There was no hesitation in my mind or in my movements as I placed the cool metal against the inside of my wrist, pressed with as much force as I could muster, and slid it toward my body.

At first, a dull ache shot through my arm several times before it settled around the cut and started growing more intense, almost like it was burning. The thick red liquid pooled near the surface and slowly began to ooze out of the wound, running down one side of my arm.

I knew the cut wouldn't be enough to do any permanent damage, so I repeated the motion on the opposite arm; it yielded the same results.

My arms shook, either from the pain or the withdrawals, as I sat back against the wall, staring down at the work I had done.

I was surprised to find that although I was dying, I felt nothing. I wasn't scared, I wasn't happy, I wasn't concerned. I simply was.

My heartbeat quickened, causing my blood to pump through my veins faster and, as a result, gush out of the wounds more.

I watched as my white tank-top was dyed red near the hem and run over onto my pants. The sheets around my waist were quickly becoming tinted as well.

My eyes became tired as I sat there, my lids growing heavy, and I inhaled deeply. The act caused goose bumps to decorate my skin and a deep chill to run through me.

I barely heard the metal door open when it did. I was so focused on the stream of red and how tired I was getting.

Two strong hands wrapped around me and pulled me from the bed.

"Elena!" Damon shouted, patting my cheek repeatedly with his hand.

The entire thing was like an out-of-body experience.

I watched as he cradled me against his chest, flipping my arms over so that my wrists were facing up. He quickly examined the wounds before picking up my sheets and ripping huge chunks out of them. He tied them around the cuts and applied pressure to stop the bleeding.

Quickly, he gathered me up into his arms and ran from the room.

"Jenna!" he shouted, rushing down the hallway.

My head was resting on his upper arm and I stared up at him, my eyes glossing over.

Damon was kind of beautiful when you really sat and thought about it. His black hair was a startling contrast to his ice blue eyes, but it all meshed very well.

He looked down at me. "Elena, just hang on, okay?"

I blinked a few times as I tossed his words around. Just hang on? To what? And why?

There was nothing here for me, and if I was being honest with myself, if there was something here for me, I didn't care enough to search for it.

I heard more footsteps coming toward us.

"Oh my god," Jenna moaned as she reached us. "We have to get her to the medic downstairs, come on," I heard her say.

My eyes remained fixated on Damon.

If I were going to die, it wouldn't be all bad for his face to be the last thing I saw.

He looked down at me again as he followed after Jenna. "Come on, love, just stay with us," he whispered softly.

I smiled up at him, hoping to comfort him and let him know it was okay. I was ready.

A bit of optimism brightened his eyes and I knew he misinterpreted my smile. He thought I was trying to stay.

I heard doors swing open several times before I was being carried into a room with a blindingly bright light. Damon laid me on a table and I cringed at the loss of contact.

"What happened here?" I heard a male voice ask.

"Two self-inflicted knife wounds on each wrist, both about two and half inches in length," Damon answered.

I felt fingers prod at my wrist. "These are extremely deep cuts," the male voice mumbled to himself.

They were deep? I had thought they were kind of shallow, hence why I cut twice. Maybe my perception had been off.

It took me a moment to realize that everything around me had blurred to the point of being unrecognizable and my vision was beginning to fade to black. The voices sounded farther away and all the pain in my body was centered on the two cuts, burning and throbbing liberally.

"Elena," someone said near me, but the voice was one I couldn't recognize as tones began to lose their consistency in my hearing. "Please, Elena, just hang on. Just for a while."

My lips quivered as I tried to tell whomever it was to not worry, but the sound stayed in my throat.

"Elena!" the voice shouted again. "Elena, please!"

My name being called was the last, fading sound I heard before everything went black.

* * *

**A/N:** I know this chapter was short, but at least it's an update, right? :P

Okay, for some sidenotes for this chapter, it held a very personal subject matter to me. I've stated before that I don't know anyone who's had problems with drugs, but the cutting hits very close to home. I was a self-injurer for approximately 5 years. For those who don't know much about the issue, it's just as serious as drug addictions. It triggers a lot of the same neurological aspects. I am happy to say that it's been 5 years since the last time, but it's a struggle each and every day. Unlike this chapter, most of the time cutting has nothing to do with wanting to immediately die. Very rarely do people cut because they want to kill themselves rather than find a release for whatever is going on. I just want people who have gone through this or who may be going through it to know that thing's do get better. It is possible to get better, I'm living proof. And for those who may know someone going through this, help them. Be there for them and let them know you are there. If you have to, get others involved, even professionals. They may dislike you at the moment for doing so, but in the long run you're saving their life.

I know this was an annoying cliffhanger, but I'm pretty sure we all know where it's going to lead. I mean, I don't plan on this being the last chapter. :)

Let me know what your thoughts are.

See you guys next chapter.


	4. Trying

Day 3

As soon as I heard the beeping of the hospital heart monitor, I knew I had failed.

It seemed like there was nothing I could do right. I couldn't even kill myself properly.

I opened my groggy eyes and saw exactly what I had expected – a small, pale, plainly decorated hospital room. I was lying in an uncomfortable bed, the back slightly tilted up so I wasn't lying flat. I looked down and saw I was wearing the standard blue and white hospital gown. A quilted blanket was pulled up to just under my armpits and my arms lied in my lap. Both wrists were wrapped heavily with white gauze.

I rolled my head over to the side and my heart fluttered – a sound made noticeable by the monitor. Damon was sitting in a large blue armchair, his head tilted back to lean on the wall and he was sleeping.

The door to my right suddenly opened and I nearly groaned when I saw it was Jenna. Her eyes were stern and her lips were pursed in a tight line, but she never looked directly at me.

She walked to my side and checked a bag that was hanging on a pole. I hadn't even realized it was connected to my arm, just below the bend of my elbow.

"What is that?" I asked and I noticed my voice sounded thick and tired.

"It'll help with the pain," she responded flatly.

"Which hospital am I in? And why isn't the hospital nurse checking the medicine?" To be honest, I really didn't want to be around Jenna at the moment. Her anger directed toward me was not helping me find any reason to be glad the suicide attempt didn't work.

"You're still at the rehabilitation center. This facility is entirely prepared to handle..." she paused to search for the correct word to use. "…_residents_," she finally settled on, "like you."

I heard a yawn to my right and I turned my head in time to see Damon come out of a stretch. He pushed himself up so he was sitting a bit more straight and he rolled his shoulders back a few times; I could hear the tiny crackles and pops of his spine. Finally he looked over toward Jenna and I and as his eyes landed on my own, I saw his lips fall into a deep frown.

"You're awake," he said with a solemn voice.

I nodded and opened my mouth to respond, but Jenna interrupted.

"Detective Salvatore, now that you and Elena are both awake I ask that you please explain to her the new rules. I'll be back in a bit to check on her." Without turning to acknowledge me any further, Jenna turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

I looked back to Damon. He was staring down at the floor, his brow furrowed in thought. His hands were folded in his lap and his thumbs were rubbing his skin.

The silence grew uncomfortable so I turned my focus away from him. Although the bed was tilted up so I wasn't flat, it still wasn't enough for me to actually sit comfortably. Normally, there was a remote control attached to the bed that controlled the beds' movements. I tried searching for the controller by simply turning my head, but I realized the remote was normally hanging from a tether. I bent my torso to the left to see if it was hanging down and when I did, the needle in my arm yanked under my skin. I cried out in pain and quickly righted myself.

Damon was by my side nearly instantly, patting the needle back down and adjusting the tube. He then picked up the hanging remote control and pressed the up button. I hadn't realized he had been watching me search for the controller. Very gradually, a whirring motor forced the upper part of my bed to lift. When I was sitting up completely, Damon dropped the controller and walked back to his seat.

I bit down on my lower lip and stared at the place on my arm he had touched. When the silence had become too much, I decided to break it.

"What new rules?" was the question I chose to start with.

He sighed and looked over at me. His eyes held all the pain I'm sure I was supposed to be feeling and shame washed through me.

"Why?" he asked quietly.

Automatically I turned my gaze away. "Why what?"

"Don't act stupid, Elena. Why did you do it?"

His tone angered me and I glared back at him. "Because you put me in this place."

As soon as I said the word "you," the sorrow in his eyes deepened and I was instantly ashamed of using a low blow such as that. None of this was really Damon's fault, but I also didn't want to admit it was my own.

He shook his head slightly. "This has nothing to do with me, Elena." The look in his eyes told me he didn't entirely believe that statement.

I scoffed. "Would I be here, in this situation right now had you not brought me here, Damon?"

His eyes hardened slightly. "You would be dead."

I narrowed my eyes even more and spoke through gritted teeth. "Which is exactly where I wanted to be. Hence my wrists."

He bent forward and held his head the palm of his hands, his elbows propped on his knees. "Elena, I just don't understand. I'm trying to, I swear I am, but I just don't get it." He looked back up at me and my heart tore as I saw the glistening of tears in his eyes. "I'm trying to help you. I'm doing everything in my power to help you and then you try to kill yourself." His brow furrowed. "Just help me understand. I don't want to go through this again."

"Again?" I asked. I had never put him through anything like this before.

He sighed and leaned back in the chair. "Katherine killed herself, Elena. I found her in a bathtub full of her own blood, two slashes on both wrists." A single tear rolled down his cheek and my chest tightened. His eyes were far away as he spoke. "Walking into your room and finding you like that…it was a nightmare, Elena. Every single haunting dream I've had about Katherine was being played out in front of me all over again. There was blood everywhere, just like the night I found Katherine."

A sudden flash of my father entered my mind. I knew exactly how something as simple as blood could be the focus of every nightmare.

I searched my mind for something to say, maybe something that would comfort him slightly, but I could find nothing. Instead my only response was, "I'm sorry."

He tilted his head. "You're sorry?" I could hear anger seeping into his tone. "Sorry for what? For being an idiot? For trying to kill yourself?"

"No," I replied quickly. "I'm not sorry for that. I did it and I won't take it back. I am sorry, however, for making you feel how you feel right now."

Abruptly, Damon stood and walked toward me. He sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed the sides of my faces with his hands.

The beeping on the monitor sped up and I wished with all my might it would shut up.

"Why the hell can't you see your potential, Elena?" he asked, his eyes boring intensely into mine.

"Damon, I don't –"

He interrupted me. "Stop it! You _do_ have potential, Elena! More than anyone I've ever met!" I could feel his hands shaking against my cheeks. "If you would just let yourself get better, you could do great things!"

"Damon, let me go," I whispered, trying to pull my face away.

"Please, Elena. Just _try_ to get better."

"Let me go," I repeated.

His hands fell from my face and his shoulder sagged lower, a dejected expression crossing over his face.

The beeping was growing extraordinarily loud in my ears, getting faster each second. With a huff, I ripped the connection from my arm and the monitor began a low, flat line noise.

Damon reached up and flicked the off switch on the monitor before moving back to the chair. As he sat down, I could tell the energy had run out of him. His face was pale beneath his dark hair and he just looked…sad.

I lifted the quilted blanket and slowly began to pick at a frayed corner. "So what are the new rules?" I asked, wanting desperately to change the subject.

Really, I didn't know what rules they could introduce to me that would make anything worse than it already was. I had only been at the facility for two days and hadn't earned any privileges that could be taken away. Sometime during the first day Jenna mentioned to me that some of the other residents, after sobering up, were allowed to walk around the grounds, make phone calls, use the entertainment room freely, and take trips off the grounds every now and then. She told me this as she was trying to convince me to eat my morning breakfast.

Damon adjusted his position in his chair before speaking. "Basically all the same stuff. You're not allowed to make phone calls nor have visitors other than myself. The only reason I'm allowed to see you is because I'm in charge of your file at the station. For the time being, you will be confined to your room at all hours. Should you need to go to the restroom, buzz Jenna and she'll accompany you."

"Accompany me?" I asked disbelievingly.

He nodded. "Along with that, you have been assigned to 24 hour watch until further notice."

My eyes grew wide and my jaw fell slack. "What does that mean?"

"Someone will be watching you every minute of the day."

"What!" I gasped.

"It's to make sure you don't pull a stunt like this again," he continued. "Once a day you will be taken to see the resident therapist. I advise you use your time with her productively."

I shook my head slightly. "Damon, I don't want to do this." I felt my face heat and the prickling of tears at my eyes at the mention of a therapist.

"You don't have a choice."

I looked away from him and pulled my lower lip in between my tip, trying my best not to let the tears spill over. I wasn't ready to see any kind of therapist. Seeing a therapist meant bringing up old memories, memories reserved for my nightmares.

"Elena, how are you feeling right now?" he asked suddenly.

"Pissed off. I really don't want to do this." I didn't bother looking over at him. In my mind I was beginning to run through ways I could avoid the therapy sessions.

"No, I mean physically. How is your body feeling?"

"To be perfectly honest, I can't really feel shit. I'm sure this medicine they're pumping into me has something to do with that."

"But you're not portraying any obvious signs of your withdrawal. Do you realize that?"

My brow furrowed and I looked over at him. He was right. I wasn't shaking, I didn't have a headache, I didn't feel nauseous. The only pain I felt was a dull throb around my wrists.

This was…different.

A small smile curled the edges of his lips. "With heroin withdrawals, the major symptoms peak between the first 24 and 72 hours. When they take you off the medicine, some of the milder symptoms may show back up, but for the most part you're over the hill. You've never made it this far before. Now it's just fixing you, Elena, not the drug." His eyes shone a bit brighter as he spoke, sanguinity replacing his sorrow. "You can do this, Elena. As much as you don't want to, you can. You just have to try."

I sighed. "Damon, I still don't understand."

"Understand what?"

"Why you're here. I don't understand why you're trying so hard. Before the other day, I had no idea you even remotely liked me. I mean, I get it, I look like your dead ex, but…" I looked away from him, "…why does it feel like there's something more?"

I heard him inhale deeply. "I don't know," he responded. "I really don't get it, either. I meet girls like you all the time, it's part of my job. But I've always felt something. The night I found you in the alley triggered… something. Suddenly, all I care about is getting you better."

I glanced over at him and saw he was looking away as well. I'm sure admitting something as deep as that was uncomfortable.

I nodded slightly to myself. "Okay," was my only answer.

I realized it was time to stop pushing Damon away. If he was convinced I could get better and he was willing to help me, maybe it was possible.

The least I could do was try.

Day 8

I was able to go back to a regular room on my 6th day at the rehabilitation center. Honestly, I would've preferred staying in the hospital ward.

I had been moved to a room that had four cameras installed in each of the corners. Everywhere I moved, I could hear the tiny sounds of the cameras following.

It was maddening. It didn't matter what I was doing, sleeping or changing my clothes, they were watching.

Jenna was just as bad as the cameras. Every time she brought me my meal, she sat there until I was finished eating. When I went to the bathroom, she did the same. Whenever she was around me, her eyes stayed locked on me at all times.

My arms were healing nicely. Jenna came and changed the wrapping on them twice a day.

The only symptoms of my withdrawals that had returned were a slight headache and the lack of an appetite. Since returning to my room, I hadn't noticed any signs of shakes or tremors. I was grateful for that. Jenna gave me medicine each night to help with my newly found insomnia. I was not grateful for that.

Damon hadn't been to visit since the third day here. Jenna told me she heard things were getting pretty crazy around the station. Apparently, Vicki wasn't the last victim of whoever killed her. Jenna said Damon was running himself ragged working on the case, but he called each morning and evening to check up with Jenna on how I was doing.

Knowing he was checking in made me nervous. I was finding that I was afraid of disappointing him, which was an irrational feeling.

Today I decided I was just going to lie around and do nothing. I wasn't near as agitated by the cameras when I was simply lying there.

As I stared up and made patterns out of the textured ceiling, I heard the handle of the metal door being turned.

I sat up and Jenna walked into the room. My brow furrowed and I looked over to my alarm clock. She had already been in that morning to change my bandages and I had already had breakfast. It was now nearing 11 AM and lunch wasn't supposed to come until 12:30ish.

"Elena," she began, "today is your first therapy session with Miss Bennett."

My heart sank into my stomach. "Um, I'm really not ready for that."

"You don't have a choice," Jenna sighed. I was really getting tired of people saying those words to me. "You can come willingly or I can call for assistance."

I cursed under my breath and shoved off the bed. If I was being made to go, then I would go, but they couldn't force me to talk.

Jenna led me down to the second floor and into a brightly colored office.

Two oversized, overstuffed yellow armchairs faced one another in the center of the room.

A pretty woman with a dark complexion and flowing brown hair was sitting in one of the chairs and smiled at me. "Hello, Elena," she greeted me. She didn't appear to be much older than I was.

I looked back at Jenna and she held out her hand, indicating I should go and have a seat.

With a heavy sigh, I crossed the carpeted floor and sat down across from the woman.

The woman looked to Jenna. "I'll let you know when we're done here."

Jenna simply nodded and shut the door.

The lady turned back to me and before she could speak again, I interrupted. "Miss Bennett," I started, recalling her name from when Jenna had said it, "I really don't want to be here. I'm just getting that out there right now. I hope you have no expectations of me because I'm not going to meet them."

Her smile was unwavering. "Well, Elena, first off, you can call me Bonnie instead of Miss Bennett. Second of all, no one _really_ wants to be here. This place is meant to deal with the issues no one really wants to talk about." She tilted her head slightly to the side. "And I have no expectations of you."

I folded my arms across my chest and nodded once. "Okay, then." I didn't like the fact that I was always so defensive, but it was how I had learned to survive.

"So," she began, reaching beside her for a large yellow legal pad and a pen, "What would you like to talk about, Elena?"

I let out one humorless chuckle. "Not a damn thing. And if you're waiting for me to want to talk about something, we'll be here all day."

I could hear the scratching of her pen as she began to write across the paper. After several minutes, she finally stopped writing and sat them down in her lap. She looked back up at me with that same, overly friendly smile. "I see you've been here a total of 8 days. Let's start with that. How are things going here?"

My jaw fell slack slightly as I stared at her. "Seriously?" I asked. "I'm sure you know everything that has happened with me over the past 8 days."

She giggled a little. "Well, yes, I've read things from your file, but I want to know how things are going from your perspective."

"They're probably going as well from my perspective as they are from yours," I answered flatly. "I'm sure those files say things are going like shit and I would have to agree."

"Okay, well, why are things going like 'shit'?" I could tell she didn't curse often. The word sounded odd as it rolled off her tongue.

I sighed. "Well, let's see. I haven't gotten high in over a week. I was tackled by a detective and had a seizure. I slit my wrists with a fucking butter knife. Hmm, I wonder why things are going like shit."

She smiled to herself and began to write again. "So, why don't we talk about what landed you in here."

"I'm a junkie. Next question."

She chuckled again. "No, I'm well aware of your drug addiction, I mean what's behind that?" She sat the paper down and looked up again. "Why did you start using?"

I narrowed my eyes. "It seemed like fun."

"Now, Elena," she pursed her lips for a moment. "There's always something that prompts the drug use. Usually people are running from something, either their present or their past. Which was it for you?"

Her questions were starting to annoy me and I could feel my anger beginning to bubble just beneath the surface. "Neither."

"You don't have to lie to me," she smiled, leaning forward and folding her hands together. "My sole purpose of being here is to help you. To let you discover why this drug entered your life and what you need to do to make sure it stays away."

"What if I don't what it to stay away?" I asked. "After 30 days I'm free to walk out of here. What if all I want to do when I leave is go get high?"

A small cocky grin lit up her lips and she leaned back again, picking up her legal pad. "I guess we'll find out how you feel about that in 22 days, won't we?" We sat in silence for several more minutes before she spoke again. "So, since we can't talk about how things are going now or why you're here, let's just talk about each other. Tell me about yourself, Elena."

"What do you want to know?"

She shrugged. "Whatever you want me to know. Let's start with the basics. Where did you grow up?"

"Here."

She nodded to herself and began writing again. "You like living in Mystic Falls?"

"It's just peachy."

She grinned. "It is nice, isn't it?" I was really getting annoyed with her happy-go-lucky demeanor.

"And you're family?" she continued, "Do they still live in Mystic Falls?"

My hands clenched into tight fists against my sides. We were not going there. "No."

"Mhm," she nodded again. "And where do they live?"

As the words left her lips, I suppressed the urge to scream. Instead I stood swiftly to my feet and started for the door. "I'll see you next time, _Bonnie_." Her name fell from my mouth in a bitter tone.

"Wait, wait, wait," she called, sitting the legal pad and pen down and following after me. "I apologize for whatever it is I said. Please, have a seat and stay a bit longer." She reached out and grabbed my upper arm. Automatically I swung around and shoved her hand away.

"Do not touch me," I spat, glaring at her. I turned back around and threw open the door.

I stormed down the hallway and I could tell she hadn't followed me further. As I neared the elevator, it chimed and the doors opened. Jenna was standing inside. Bonnie must have called her as soon as I left.

"Finished?" Jenna asked, holding a hand out to keep the elevator doors open.

"Fuck you," I mumbled and stepped inside. I kept my arms folded across my chest and I stared down at the floor.

I guess I wasn't really up for trying after all.

* * *

**A/N:** Let me start this by saying that I am truly overwhelmed by the responses I got for the last chapter. I'm so glad that I was able to connect with so many of my readers on such a personal level.

Also, I want to thank you all for the reviews thus far. I'm overjoyed that the story is being received well.

So, let me know what you thought of this chapter. Elena's really just being a bitch, right? ;P

I hope to get the next update out soon, but we'll see how that goes. This semester at my university started back the other day and I was recently proposed to, so I'm at the beginning stages of wedding planning, so I have quite a bit on my plate. Lol. But I will write every opportunity I get and try to crank out some chapters.

See you guys next chapter. :)


	5. Red

Day 11

After my session with Bonnie, my body and mind went through a major shut down period.

I couldn't keep down any food and I began having dry heaves again. I ran a fever of 102 and I was constantly shivering. Everything started pissing me off, including myself. Suicidal thoughts littered my mind once more and my 24-hour watch team was put on alert.

It was day two all over again.

The doctors came to examine me, but they couldn't determine what was wrong with me. I knew exactly what it was. My session with Bonnie had come too close for comfort with unearthing my past. The main reason I didn't think about my family was because my mind literally wouldn't let me. Whenever those locked doors were tugged at, my body reacted violently.

Because of my sudden illness, I was excused from therapy sessions for both days nine and ten. Instead, I slept the entirety of each day. Although it helped kick some of the sickness, I had more dreams than I cared to.

I woke around noon on day eleven. Jenna had stopped trying to bring me any meals, telling me instead to buzz her when I was ready, so she wasn't there to wake me in the morning.

The sun shone brightly through my windows, casting shadows wherever they hit the cold metal bars.

I felt different as I woke. I still felt sick – a headache throbbed at my temples – but I felt…lighter. My chest didn't feel as bogged down with stress as it had the previous days and my fever had obviously broken. My muscles didn't ache and I felt like I could finally climb out of bed and start doing things again.

It was the feeling I often got right after getting high.

I groaned as I thought of the heroin.

I wanted some. Badly.

It didn't matter that my body didn't feel physically dependent on it anymore. I still craved the white powder. The way the light glinted off the bars of my window reminded me of the way light reflected against the smooth surface of a needle.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, pushing the thoughts away. For now, my craving would have to wait….

At least for 19 more days.

I sat up and looked around my room, grimacing as I did so. I was tired of looking at white this and white that. When I was a child, my room was decorated with every color under the sun. Part of the reason I hated where I was so much was because it was extraordinarily plain.

An idea formed in my mind and I suddenly felt determined to put myself to good use today.

I bit down on my lower lip and walked over to the intercom button. If I couldn't get high and I couldn't leave my room, maybe they would allow me to keep my hands busy inside the room. What was the saying? Idle hands are the devils play things? I laughed to myself as the quote ran through my mind. It was amazingly true.

I pressed the button and leaned against the wall, chewing on my thumbnail as I waited for an answer.

"Yes?" a woman's voice filled the room.

"Yeah, I was just wondering if we were allowed to decorate our rooms?"

"Hold on one moment," the woman said and a beep indicated the connection had been lost. I rolled my eyes. Sometimes the employees at this place seemed so incompetent.

Not a minute later, there was a knock on my door.

When I opened it, I was not at all pleased to see Jenna. She still hadn't gone back to her friendly, motherly attitude since my suicide attempt. I could tell she was angry with me.

"You want to decorate your room?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

I sighed and folded my arms over my chest. "Is that not allowed? The lady on the intercom didn't seem to know."

"Oh, it's allowed," Jenna answered, "And she knows that. She just didn't know if _you_ were allowed to."

My hands dropped to my hips. "Why wouldn't I be allowed to?"

"Because you don't have the privileges the other residents have."

I groaned and began to rub the bridge of my nose with my thumb and index finger. "Jenna, this is getting _really_ old."

"What is?"

"Being treated like a child." I dropped my hand and looked back at her. "All I want to do is decorate my room so that I'm not looking at white anymore. Is that really so much to ask?"

Her eyes traveled my body. "And you're okay enough now to decorate your room?"

"I feel better, yes," I responded.

"Are you running a fever still?"

My jaw clenched together. I was beginning to get extremely aggravated. "Would you like to feel my forehead?"

She stared at me for a moment longer and then nodded once. "Okay. I can take you down to the storage closet in about thirty minutes and let you pick out some stuff."

I felt my cheek muscles twitch as I held back a small smile. "Okay, then."

Without another word, Jenna pulled the door closed enough that it was blocking me from the hallway, but it wasn't latched, and she walked away.

As soon as she was gone, the smile broke free. Finally I was being granted the opportunity to do _something_, no matter how mundane a task.

Today was definitely the start of something new. I hadn't felt excited about doing anything in a long, long while. And even though the door wasn't locked shut, I didn't have the urge to try to escape through it. That was definite progress.

I sat on my bed and fidgeted with my clothes, my leg bouncing up and down as I waited for Jenna to come back. My eyes kept darting to my alarm clock, waiting for the thirty-minute mark to come round.

Exactly when I expected it to happen, there was a knock on my door.

Quickly I ran across the room and threw open the door. "You took forev –" I began to say, but gasped when I ran into someone that was not Jenna.

Tyler.

I took a step back and my brow furrowed. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

"No 'hello'?" he smirked, walking past me into the room. I looked up at the cameras in the corners and I heard Tyler laugh. "They're not watching," he informed me. "Something about 'gone to lunch." He sat down on the edge of my bed and I instantly became angry. Who the hell did he think he was?

"What are you doing here?" I repeated a bit more loudly.

He shrugged. "I heard you were here. Decided to stop in and check on you."

"I'm not allowed visitors, Tyler."

His eyes became dark as he stared at me. "Except for that pretty boy detective, right?"

"Seriously, you need to go," I said and looked at the door. I hadn't even realized he had closed it. There was a keypad on the inside of my room, but I didn't know the code. I was locked inside the room with Tyler. My heart stuttered uncomfortably.

"Haven't you missed me?" he asked.

I let out a humorless chuckle. "Right. Because I would miss the guy who gave me tainted drugs."

His smirk grew. "You found out about that?"

I could feel my face fall in incredulous confusion. "You knew they were messed up?" I asked quietly.

He laughed and the sound sent shivers up my spine. "Of course I knew, Elena." His eyes narrowed slightly. "They were supposed to kill you."

"W-what?" I stuttered, unconsciously taking a step away from him.

"Apparently your body was already so fucked up that it was able to handle whatever was put into that heroin. I'm truly impressed. Only you, kid."

I didn't understand. The drugs were messed with purposely? And to kill me? Why?

My heart started to beat more quickly as the realization that it wasn't safe to be here with Tyler dawned on me.

I looked back to the door. Where was Jenna? She should be here by now.

"You're looking good, I see," he went on.

I could feel my palms getting slick with sweat as my nerves shook. I looked back at him. "Thanks," I responded quietly.

"You've gotten skinnier, though. Do they feed you here?"

My eyes started roaming around the room for something I could use in case I needed to defend myself. "I have trouble keeping things down."

"How long has it been since you've used?"

"Since the bag you gave me," I answered honestly.

He laughed. "Way to go out with a bang, I guess."

I inwardly cursed the facilities minimalistic style. There was absolutely nothing I could pick up to use in this room. My eyes finally rested on the intercom button. If I could press it, maybe I could alert the security.

"Has it been hard?"

I looked back to him. "Has what been hard?"

"Kicking it."

I rolled my eyes. "No, Tyler, it's been a fucking walk in the park. What the hell do you think?"

"Don't get snappy, Elena," he scolded. "But I can tell it's been far from that. The bandages on your arms say that much."

I looked down at my wrists. "That was…an accident."

"An accident my ass," he chuckled. "I know all about your failed suicide attempt. Kind of pathetic if you ask me." It was quiet for a few moments before he spoke again. "So this is where you spend all your time, huh?"

I looked up and saw him looking around my room. My brow furrowed as I took in his words. How did he know about me trying to kill myself? And how did he know I was always in my room?

"What the hell do you do in here? It's probably…the most boring room I've ever seen."

I hated to agree with him. "I'm not allowed to go anywhere else."

He stood up and walked across the room to my window. "It's not even a good view," he said to himself.

I looked back at the intercom. This would probably be my only opportunity to get across the room to it. When Tyler was on the bed, I would have had to cross in front of him to get to it. With him at the window, however, his back was toward me.

I took a deep breath, glanced at Tyler once more to make sure he was staring out the window, and lurched forward.

Nearly half a foot away from the intercom, Tyler slammed me up against the concrete walls, knocking the air from my lungs. His forearm was held against my throat, keeping my head up. His other hand was pushing painfully into my ribs.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he sneered. I gasped for air as he leaned toward me. "That was stupid, Elena."

He reached up and grabbed a handful of my hair. I cried out in pain as he spun me around and shoved me down on the bed. Quickly I scurried across the sheets to the corner and curled up with my legs to my chest and my back to the wall.

Tyler stood at the edge of the bed and stared down at me, a sinister look haunting his features. "We know it was you who gave that fucking detective names."

I shook my head. "I d-didn't," I stammered.

"Shut up," he commanded, rolling his eyes. "You were the last person who saw that bitch Vicki with them."

Suddenly it all made sense and my eyes grew wide. "Is that why you tried to kill me?"

"You're a smart one, aren't you?" he asked condescendingly. "We know all about your undercover bullshit for the police, Elena. We knew they'd come around and ask you questions soon enough. Unfortunately for us you lived long enough for that to happen."

"Why are you here?" I asked again meekly.

His lips turned into that same awful smirk. "To finish the job, of course."

I could hear my heart hammering in my ears.

I begged with whatever god there was to just please let my 24-hour watch people come back to the camera monitors.

"But first," he began, slowly lowering himself onto his knees on the bed, "I'm going to get what I should've gotten two weeks ago." He licked his lips and grabbed my legs.

As he pulled me forward, I screamed and grasped the sheets, kicking at his arms.

I twisted my body and kicked at his face, successfully knocking him the jaw. The blow caused him to fall backwards and I scrambled off the bed, rushing over to my door.

I began banging on the metal, screaming at the top of my lungs for help.

I looked out the window and my heart sank as I saw no one in the hallway.

Suddenly his hand was over my mouth, muffling my cries. He turned me around and pushed me down on the ground, his body instantly covering mine.

Tears prickled at my eyelashes as his hands began to grip my body parts.

I struggled with him, scratching at his skin.

"Fucking stop," he growled, lifting my shoulder and banging me against the floor. My head bounced off the hard surface and I could hear ringing in my ears.

He took advantage of my momentary stupor, grabbing each of my wrists within one of his hands and holding them forcefully over my head. His tight squeeze caused the cuts on my arms to burn in pain.

He placed his knees on my legs to keep them still as he bent down and began to kiss my neck.

I thrashed my head and screamed.

The feeling of his tongue on my skin made my stomach muscles contract with the urge to vomit.

He shoved his free hand up my shirt and he began to pull at my bra, his hand closing around the breast.

"No!" I screamed, jerking my body in an effort to get him off. As I did so, one of my knees slid from the grasp of his legs and rammed into his junk.

Tyler gasped and pulled away from my neck, his hand releasing my arms and his legs falling slack. I was able to shove his weight off of me and he rolled onto his back, his hands holding his jeans where I had hit him. His face had lost all color as he groaned in pain.

I half crawled, half ran to the other side of my room. My hand slammed into the button on the wall and I began screaming for help before anyone even answered.

I felt his hands grab my legs and he tried pulling me down.

"You fucking bitch!" he yelled, slamming his fist into my lower back.

I cried out as I fell to my knees, a sharp pain shooting through my spine. I threw my hands out and felt around for anything as he started pulling me back. My fingers wrapped around the smooth surface of my alarm clock that was sitting on the bedside dresser.

With as much strength as I had, I yanked the alarm clock, pulling the chord from the wall, and spun around, making contact with his head.

His hands dropped from my body and he fell onto the floor.

Without waiting for him to attack again, I began slamming the alarm clock down onto his head repeatedly, screaming clipped words as I did so.

I could feel the tears spill over onto my cheeks and mix with the red sprays coming from Tyler's body each time I lifted the clock.

My vision was blurred from me crying so I couldn't tell if he was still trying to get up or struggle. I just kept moving my arms, hitting him over and over again.

Finally the alarm clock began to break into pieces, making it impossible for me to hold it steady anymore.

I dropped it and backed quickly away from Tyler, moving to the corner by the desk.

I wiped the tears from my eyes and when I pulled my hands away, my stomach lurched as I saw the red liquid coating my hands.

With wide eyes I looked back to Tyler and muffled sobs escaped my lips. Blood was pooling thickly around his now misshapen, unidentifiable head. It was spreading out away from his body, slowly making its way toward me.

My entire body shook as I watched the liquid move, my mind willing it to stay away.

I couldn't blink, I couldn't think, I couldn't get up. I was frozen in place watching the steady stream of red, my chest heaving as I gasped for air.

"No," I mumbled. "No, no, no, no, no, no." I was pleading with the blood. As afraid as I was of Tyler, I was so much more afraid of that fluid. I didn't want it to reach me.

"In here!" I heard someone yell and the metal door slammed open.

"Elena!" someone yelled, coming over to me and wrapping their arms around me.

My eyes remained locked on the slowly moving blood. Even when they tried making me stand, I remained unmoving, staring with horrified eyes at the liquid. My pulse was pounding against my skin and my chest burned as I continued taking sharp, clipped, quick breaths.

"Diprivan, now!" the person shouted by my ear.

I felt the prick in my upper arm and red flooded my vision as I fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N:** This chapter came much sooner than I expected it to.

Never before have I had a chapter kind of write itself. Usually when I'm going into a chapter, for the most part I know what's going to happen. In this chapter, at the beginning, I was literally going to have Elena decorate her room. When I wrote the part about Jenna saying she'd be back in 30 minutes, that was actually going to happen and she was really going to take Elena to the storage room where Elena was going to pick out purple curtains and a different colored comforter and stationary, etc. And I even wrote the part about Elena rushing to the door and throwing it open with the belief that it was going to be Jenna, but just as I got to that next sentence, I saw Tyler in my mind and knew it was him. It was the most odd sensation I've ever had when writing. It wasn't like I was coming up with the story anymore but that I was watching it and simply typing it down. I have truly never experienced anything like that before.

So, tell me what you thought of the chapter! I'm really anxious to know.

And as a side note, I try to respond to each and every one of my reviews. My readers mean SOOO much to me! But sometimes there's just too many and I don't get enough time, but I want y'all to know that I really do read them all and take notes from them. I often incorporate the answers to the questions I get in reviews into my chapters so that, in case others were wondering the same thing, I can answer it for everyone at once. I also take notes from when you guys say "I hope..." and see if I can't work some of it into the story. Things like that normally make the chapters so much better.

Also, thanks to all the people who congratulated me on my engagement! I am really excited and will probably share more than a few details about wedding stuff in my blog, if you're interested: writingtoberemembered(dot)blogspot(dot)com . (I also write about story stuff there). Also, you could follow me on twitter: APhobiac

See you guys next Chapter!


	6. Tick, Tick

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Tick._

I took a deep breath and frowned as the air burned traveling to my lungs.

_Tick._

_Tick._

My stomach muscles contracted as the strong stench of salt and rust and copper and bleach wafted over me.

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Tick._

I inwardly groaned as the ticking of the clock vibrated in my mind, making me aware of the headache I currently had.

_Tick. _

My brow furrowed as I thought of a clock. I didn't have a ticking clock in my room.

_Tick._

I only had a digital alarm clock.

_Tick._

_Tick._

But I had broken the alarm clock when…

_Tick._

My eyes shot open and my body lurched forward, attempting to sit up, but I was being held down by something.

I turned my head and instantly started screaming when I saw Tyler's bloodied form still lying on my bedroom floor.

The memories of me killing him came rushing back to me and tears reached my eyes.

I jerked my body, trying my best to get up, but whatever was restricting me wouldn't budge.

My screams were starting to become muffled by my sobs and I felt my throat growing hoarse.

Why couldn't I get up?

Footsteps ran across the tiled floor, creating a sticky, sucking noise as they stepped in Tyler's blood.

Hands grabbed my face to hold me still and I screamed even more, my eyes clenched tight.

"Elena! Elena, it's okay!"

I opened my eyes and saw Damon kneeling above me.

"Why can't I get up?" I cried. "I want to get up!"

"Jenna!" Damon yelled, turning to look behind him. "Let her up!"

Jenna appeared beside Damon and she began tugging at something against my body.

After a few seconds, I felt whatever was restricting me fall slack and I scrambled up and away from it, pushing myself to a corner.

I sat up and my body was shaking violently, my vision murky from my tears.

Damon and Jenna were staring at me, both with looks of concern.

I looked to the floor and saw what I had been lying on and restricted by – a medical gurney.

Behind Jenna and Damon was Tyler, still sprawled out on the floor. Some of his blood had been cleaned up, but most of it had not.

"Why is he still there?" I screamed, my eyes becoming fixated on the red smears on the floor.

"I thought you gave her the medicine," Damon said quietly to Jenna, though his eyes didn't leave me.

"Ten minutes ago. She shouldn't be awake right now," Jenna replied.

The ticking of the clock made its way into my mind again and quickly my eyes searched for the source.

Grudgingly, I forced my eyes to move across the blood and to Tyler's body. On his wrist was a black and gold watch, still ticking with every second.

Another sob made its way from my chest and new tears fell from my eyes. "I'm sorry," I whispered to Tyler. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Damon moved from his place and knelt in front of my, blocking my view of Tyler. "Elena," he started and reached for my face. I flinched away and closed my eyes tight. "Sweetie, it's okay," he said softly.

It was not okay. Nothing was okay. I was not a murderer, yet I had killed Tyler. I had taken a life. Nothing would ever be okay.

I groaned and hid my face in my knees.

I was no better than the men that had taken the lives of my family.

As I cried, I felt Damon's hand rub along my back in a method meant to be comforting.

"She needs to get out of here," I heard Jenna say.

Damon gently grabbed my shoulders and pulled me to a sitting position. His hands grabbed under my armpits and very smoothly, he stood, pulling me up with him and into his arms.

My legs automatically wrapped around his waist and his hands gripped under my thighs. I buried my face into the crook of his neck and continued to cry. It was exactly like you'd hold a young child, and I really felt like a child. I was scared and confused and distraught. I just wanted to be held.

Damon walked us out of the room, away from the source of my current terror, and down the hallway.

"In here," Jenna said and I heard a door open.

"Give us a few minutes," Damon told her as he stepped inside, removing one of his hands from my legs to close the door behind him.

He walked farther into the room and as he moved to sit on a sofa, he repositioned my legs so that they were dangling off the same side of his lap, but I was still clinging to his torso.

He leaned back and lightly pulled at my waist. "Elena, look at me."

I shook my head and held on tighter. I didn't want to move. I felt safe there.

"Love, it's okay. I just want to make sure you aren't hurt."

With a shuddering breath, I pulled away from his neck, blinking away a few tears.

His hands quickly went to my face, pushing away hair that had matted to my cheeks by the tears.

I bit down on my lower lip and stared down at his chest, looking at nothing in particular.

"Is anything hurting on you?" he asked as he ran his hands down my arms, squeezing lightly as he went.

I shrugged. Honestly, I felt numb. I didn't know if I was hurt or not.

His hands moved to the top of my shoulder blades and as he moved down, his fingertips pressed into my spine.

As he neared the lower dip of my back, a stabbing pain shot throughout my body and I cried out.

He gently pushed me forward so that I bent over and he pulled up the back of my shirt. I heard him inhale sharply and his fingers grazed over the sore spot.

Suddenly, he pulled my shirt back down and he lifted me up. "I'll be right back," he said as he turned and placed me on the couch.

I grabbed at his shirt as a spasm of panic rocked through me. "Don't leave me. Please, Damon."

He grabbed my hands and knelt down to my level. "Elena, I promise I will be right back. I'll just be outside, okay?"

I stared into his eyes and saw his absolute sincerity. My fingers reluctantly released his clothing and he lightly kissed my hands before placing them in my lap.

He stood back up and left the room, closing the door behind him.

"Is she okay?" I heard Jenna's voice clearly through the door; it obviously wasn't very thick.

"Where the hell were you guys?" Damon asked, his tone much different than when he was speaking to me.

"Damon," Jenna started, "we didn't know-"

"Exactly!" Damon yelled, cutting her off. "You didn't know what was going to happen to her! Shouldn't that reason alone have been enough to continue watching her? What the hell happened to the 24 hour watch?"

"She had been showing signs of improvement so they felt it would be okay to go to lunch."

"You're fucking kidding me right?" Damon asked incredulously. "Jenna, she could have been killed!"

"We understand that, Damon, but-"

"Do you realize how far back this is going to put her in her recovery! We'll be lucky if she doesn't attempt suicide again tonight! Fuck, Jenna! I told you guys that it was vital you have security watching her _at all times_! What the fuck didn't you understand about that? I told you about her file going missing in an attempt to keep this type of thing from happening!"

My brow furrowed. My file had gone missing? Was that how Tyler knew about what was happening with me here?

"An incident such as this has never occurred here before, Damon," Jenna said, her voice becoming stern. "We have security at all of our entrances and exits. We don't know how he got in."

"And where were you?"

"There were problems on the first floor that I needed to attend to. We now realize those problems were created by Elena's intruder."

"Jenna, she's fucking traumatized! You can see it in her eyes! Do you realize how scared she was for me to just leave the room? And her back!" Damon groaned. "There's a bruise the size of a fucking basketball across her skin! How the fuck did that happen?"

I twisted around quickly and lifted my shirt, trying to see what he was talking about. I could only make out a bit of purplish-black marks spreading over to my side.

"Security said it showed on the tapes that she only received a few blows, none at all life threatening. One of those was to her lower back."

"Not life threatening?" he asked coldly. "Jenna, this _does_ fucking threaten her life. Elena does the things she does because she's escaping memories that have happened to her. This is just one more thing to add to the list of forgetting."

My breath caught in my throat as I listened. He knew what happened to me? I slowly lowered my shirt and leaned forward, waiting for him to continue.

"You know about her past?" Jenna asked the question I wanted to say aloud.

"I know some of it. I couldn't get a hold of the full files, but I saw enough to know that she's had a fucked up life, Jenna."

"Did you find out these things recently?"

"I do research on all of my C.I.'s when I first hire them. Normally it's easy to get to their files and nothing comes back that's too serious. Hers was basically locked and fucking chained. I went through hell getting the information I have now."

I hadn't noticed that my breathing had escalated until I started to get dizzy.

Damon had known about me since the beginning.

Was that why he was so connected to me? Because he knew how badly I had been hurt?

Damon was the type of guy who had to help a girl when she needed it. He felt the need to save her. Was I just another project for him?

"And what exactly did you find out?" Jenna asked.

I shook my head, pleading with Damon in my mind to stay quiet.

"I'm not at liberty to share that information, Jenna, you know that. If Elena wants you to know, she'll tell you herself."

The handle on the door turned and I jumped slightly, expecting their conversation to continue. Damon stepped in and closed the door behind him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked quietly, staring down at the ground. My fingers wrapped around themselves in a nervous, fidgeting behavior.

"You heard us?"

I nodded and my cheeks heated as the tears returned.

He crossed the floor and bent to his knees in front of me. "Elena, I didn't…you weren't supposed…I didn't…" he stammered as he searched for the words to say, reaching for my hands. I pulled away and pressed my hands against my stomach. He sighed. "I didn't think it was information you'd want me to know."

"And you're fucking right," I whispered, cringing as I felt a tear slide down my face.

"I'm sorry, Elena. I was going to let you tell me when you wanted to."

"I would have never told you, Damon. I don't tell anyone."

"I know," he replied softly.

"Is that why you're here?"

"What?"

I looked up at him, my eyes narrowed. "Even before you brought me here, you did things to stop me from using. You threatened my dealers, even arrested them. Is this why? Do you feel some sort of god-complex because you know my past and you think you can save me?"

His brow furrowed and he shook his head. "That's not it at all, Elena."

"Is it not? You said so yourself, you meet a ton of girls like me on the job. The fucked up junkie type. Do you do all this to help them?"

"It's different with you."

"Because I had…what did you call it? A 'fucked up life?'"

"No, Elena, that isn't it."

My chest was starting to burn as I stared at him. Had I been hoping his feelings toward me were genuine? I hadn't even truly considered being with Damon, but was I disappointed now to find out it was just a ruse?

I looked away from him. "You need to leave."

"I'm not going anywhere," he told me. "Not yet."

"I don't want you here, Damon," I said through clenched teeth, trying my best to hold back another sob.

His hands came up to hold either side of my face and even though I tried to pull away, his grip tightened, forcing me to look at him.

His ice blue eyes were pained. "Elena, I swear to you it had nothing to do with your file. What I felt…what I _feel_ for you is because of you. Just you. I don't want to help you because it makes me feel good. I want to help you because you deserve it."

I stood up and pushed past him. "I don't deserve anything." A few more tears slid down my cheeks and my hands started to tremble.

"Yes you do!" he nearly yelled, grabbing my arm and turning me to face him. "Why would you think you don't?"

"You want to see why I don't deserve this?" I shouted at him. "Come with me! Come look at what I did!" Quickly, I turned and ran for the door. Before I could pull it open and leave, Damon grabbed me again, wrapping me into his arms. I shoved against his chest, hitting him with my fists, but he wouldn't let go. "There's a man covered in blood in the other room! I killed him, Damon!" My words were beginning to become clipped by my tears. "I murdered him! I took a person's life!"

His grip tightened and he shook his head. "Elena, that wasn't your fault. You were protecting yourself."

I continued to struggle against him. "It is my fault!" I cried. "He's dead because of me! No one else! Me! I killed him." I felt my knees growing weak and I stopped pulling away from him. Instead, I grabbed onto his shirt and cried against his chest. "I killed him, Damon. I'm a murderer." The sobs that broke through me were shuddering and loud.

Damon tried to console me, running his hand through my hair while the other one held me close to him.

The reality of everything fell on me as I stood there.

I was a drug addict.

I was a suicide-risk.

I was a murderer.

I was a monster.

* * *

**A/N:** Poor Elena. :(

I want to start by saying thank you to all of my readers. So far this story has been favorited 71 times and 102 members have subscribed to alerts for it. That's huge to me because we're only on chapter 6. For my other stories, it took much longer to get that many readers. I also want to say thank you because I have been added to the author alert lists of 108 members and am on the favorite author list of 92 members! That's crazy! I'm so glad you guys like my stories!

Chapter 7 should be up really soon, but in the meantime, I would really love for you guys to check out the video I made for this story. I'm really pretty pleased with it. Either comment on the video or tell me in your review here what you think.

You can view it at (and because it won't allow me to post links here, you'll have to copy and paste this address and replace the (DOT) with a period) youtube(DOT)com/watch?v=slJDG2sHvgM

For more information on where I am with stories and what-not, either read my blog at writingtoberemembered(DOT)blogspot(DOT)com or follow me on twitter: APhobiac

Also, today I registered for Fandoms Fight The Floods. It's to raise money for victims of the flood in Australia. Hundreds of fanfic authors have signed up to submit stories for it and if you contribute at least $5, you can read the stories. I'm currently waiting for an e-mail back confirming I can write for it, and if I can, I will be writing a Delena one-shot for the project. It's for a really great cause. For more information about it, head on over to fandomsfightthefloods(DOT)blogspot(DOT)com

See you guys next chapter!


	7. Progress

Day 12

The black leather office chair squeaked under me as I spun in a slow circle, my head tilted back so I could stare at the ceiling. If I was keeping count correctly, I was on my one-hundred-and-fourth rotation.

The male across the table from me cleared his throat, as if to focus my attention. "And what happened next, Miss Gilbert?"

I sighed and pressed the tips of my toes against the floor to spin me around again. "He got up from the bed."

"And?" he prompted after another moment of silence.

I spoke in a flat tone to answer his questions. It seemed to help with not becoming emotional while recalling the events of Tyler's attack. "He covered my mouth with his hand and threw me to the floor."

"Did he hit you then?"

"Nope. Just pushed me to the floor and started touching me."

"So he was trying to rape you."

"Yes."

"Did you scream for help?"

"Dumb question. Next." I rolled my eyes. I had been in this room for two hours. The police wanted to give me time to fully remember the details before they started recording. At this point, I was annoyed, tired, and hungry.

"Okay. What happened next?"

"I kneed him in his balls and got up."

"And went where?"

"I pressed the intercom button."

"And Tyler got up?"

We were nearing the portion of the story that made me very, very uncomfortable. My mind was working on sending the memories of Tyler's death to the same file that held the memories of my parents' death. It was the file that got stored _way_ back in the deepest, darkest corners of my mind.

"Yes," I answered. "He got up."

"Okay, and he came to you?"

"He hit me in my back to make me fall."

"And that's where the bruise came from? The one we took pictures of earlier?"

"Yes."

"Okay, what happened then?"

I dragged my feet against the linoleum and the chair squealed to a stop. I narrowed my eyes and looked over at him. "I don't understand why I'm here. You guys have the footage of the attack. Why don't you just watch it?"

He sighed and rubbed at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "Miss Gilbert, it's required we get an official statement from you."

I looked down to the detective badge hanging around his neck, the same type Damon wore. My brow furrowed when I saw it said 'Detective Salvatore.' "Why are you wearing Damon's' badge?" I blurted, completely forgetting I was supposed to be answering questions.

He looked down at it and shook his head. "I'm not. This is mine."

"You're a Salvatore, too?" I asked.

"I'm his brother, actually." The man pressed the button on the tape player to stop recording and held out a hand. "I'm Stefan."

I just stared at the outstretched offer and eventually he lowered it.

"He never told me he had a brother," I said, looking back up to him.

"And you and Damon are close enough that information such as that is shared?"

My lips pressed into a tight line and I looked to the table. He had a point. Damon and I had never really bonded on a friendship level. So far, our knowing each other had been under really heavy circumstances, leaving no room for casual conversation.

"Exactly what I thought." He nodded to himself and pressed the recording button once more.

"So, you fell on the floor and?"

I looked back up at him and scowled. "And then I grabbed an alarm clock and beat him to death. End of story."

He wrote something on his paper before turning the recording device off again. He looked up to me. "Miss Gilbert, I'm sorry for what you went through. Our department is launching a full investigation to discover how Mr. Lockwood was able to retrieve your file."

I pushed up from the chair. "So I can leave now?"

"Yes, Jenna from the facility is waiting in the office to take you back."

My jaw tightened and I just nodded, turning to leave.

"Miss Gilbert," Stefan suddenly started, standing to his feet as well. "I don't know you and I have no idea why you're at that facility, but I know my brother has seemed to take a special interest in you."

I folded my arms across my chest and looked away from him.

He continued, "Damon has had to deal with a lot in the recent years. I don't want to see him hurt again. So, whatever it is that's going on with you, don't let it affect my brother."

I bit down on my lower lip and nodded before exiting the room.

Stefan didn't seem to realize that I didn't want Damon to be involved with my problems. I had tried more than once to convince him to leave me alone. Now, I wasn't quite sure if it was up to me or not whether this affected him.

* * *

Jenna led me back into the rehab facility.

We passed a large glass window on the way to the elevator that looked into an entertainment room. My cheeks burned as every resident inside turned to watch me walk by.

I was the freak amongst freaks.

Once inside the elevator, Jenna pressed the button to the second floor.

"My room is on the third," I reminded her with a sigh. She was probably just as tired as I was.

"You're going to see Miss Bennett," she answered.

My eyes grew wide and I turned to look at her. "No, not today," I whined. "Jenna, I just want to sleep."

The metal doors came together in front of us as Jenna began to speak. "She specifically requested that you two meet today. You can sleep after."

I groaned and turned around, pressing my forehead against the cool surface of the walls. A ding sounded, indicating we had reached our destination.

As the doors whirred open, I was greeted with her sickly-pleasant voice. "Hello, Elena."

Sluggishly, I turned to face her, a frown on my face. "Hi."

Jenna held her hand out to keep the door open until I walked out. I followed Bonnie down the hallway and into her office.

She waved her hand toward the chair I had sat in last time as she sat in her own.

"How are you doing today, Elena?"

"I'm tired," I answered honestly as I sat down.

She nodded, pulling out her stupid legal pad and pen. "That's to be expected. Did everything go okay down at the station?"

I shrugged.

She smiled, crossing her legs and leaning forward, her arms on her knee. "Elena, I'm very sorry for what happened yesterday. You need to understand and realize right now that it wasn't your fault."

"I wish everyone would quit saying that," I muttered, looking down to the floor.

She sat up straight and began writing. "They say it because it's true, but that can be something we discuss later. So, where do you want to start?" she asked.

"I don't want to start at all," I replied bitterly.

She looked up from her paper. "Elena, some pretty traumatic events took place yesterday. If you don't begin working on those issues now, they will fester until they are your new reason to use. They will push you farther along your path to self-destruction. Is that what you want?"

Immediately, Damon's face entered my mind. Stefan had warned me not to hurt him. If I continued on my "self-destructing path," that certainly would be something that would hurt him.

My brow furrowed. Why was Damon the first thing I thought of? Why would I think of him at all?

"Care to share what's on your mind?" Bonnie asked and I looked up to find her staring at me intently.

I shook my head. Damon was definitely not something I wanted to discuss.

She nodded and started writing again. "So, I guess we'll just start from the very beginning. I'm assuming you knew Tyler?" I remained quiet and eventually she looked up at me and sighed. "Elena, answering questions does not have to be like pulling teeth. It isn't safe for you to keep all of this inside. Just answer the question and we'll either discuss the answer or continue on. Okay? And if you're uncomfortable with a question, tell me that. Don't just sit there silently. Understand?"

I looked down at the floor. I wasn't ready to start talking about these things with anyone, but if I really thought about it, I never would be ready. Maybe it was just time to dive in headfirst.

I finally nodded. "Okay. I understand."

She smiled. "So, again, did you know Tyler?"

"I did."

Her pen hit the paper once more. "From where?"

"He was my dealer."

I saw one of her perfectly plucked brows rise. "Oh, really?"

"He's the reason I'm here."

Suddenly she stopped writing and looked up at me, her soft eyes turning hard. "Elena, before we continue, I'm going to stop you right there. Tyler may have been your dealer, but you being here is no one's fault but your own. Tyler never forced you to take the drugs, am I correct?" I nodded meekly. I hadn't expected her sudden scolding and it caught me off guard. "Okay, then. If you begin blaming others for your problems, your progress won't go anywhere. So, Elena, before we get back on topic, who's fault is it that you're here?"

"Mine," I choked out quietly.

She nodded and her smile softened her face again. "Good job. Now, by your statement, I'm assuming Tyler gave you the bad drugs?"

I nodded, still reeling from her outburst.

"Do you know if he did that on purpose?"

"He did. He told me so yesterday."

"Why?"

"I work…worked," I corrected, "for Damon as a confidential informant. Apparently Tyler knew this."

She sat her pen down and looked at me with a confused expression. "What does your work with Detective Salvatore have to do with Tyler?"

"Damon was working on a case where a girl had been killed. I knew the girl and I gave him names of the guys I last saw her with. The guys were relatives of his."

Her mouth formed a small o as a look understanding replaced the confusion. "Tyler was trying to stop you from giving names, then?"

I nodded.

"Is that why he was here yesterday? Because you did give names?"

"The drugs were supposed to kill me, he said. And since they didn't, he was going to finish the job."

We sat in silence for a few moments as she wrote something down, and then she looked up at me. "Elena, I saw the footage of the attack. We don't have to talk about specifics if you don't want to, but I want you to talk to me about how you felt."

My brow furrowed. "How I felt?"

She nodded. "When Tyler first got there, what emotions did you have?"

I thought back to when he sat on my bed. "I was angry."

"Okay, why?"

"Because he just walked in," I replied. "Like he owned the place or something. I didn't like it. I wanted him to leave."

"And when you realized why he was there?"

I had to look away from her as that memory was pulled back up. "I was scared."

"Why are you whispering, Elena?" Bonnie asked and I looked up to her. I hadn't realized I had been.

"I don't know," I told her.

"Is it because you're afraid to face what you felt? Or is it because you're afraid to let me see how you felt?"

I thought about her questions for several moments before determining which it was. "I'm afraid to let you see."

"Why?"

My answer came quickly. "It isn't safe to let people see me."

"But I see you," she replied with a wave of her hand. "You're sitting right here."

I shook my head. "No, I mean really see _me_. It's taken me years to build up these walls. If I let them down for even just a second, my whole world could be destroyed."

"But don't you realize you're destroying it yourself by keeping them up?" she questioned.

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out.

After my family passed, I learned very quickly to be tough. It was all I knew at this point.

"I don't know how to let people in," I confided quietly.

"I know, and that's okay," she smiled. "We'll work on it." She picked back up the pen. "So, when he began touching you, how did you feel?"

I cringed slightly as my minds eye drew up that image. "I felt…scared…and dirty. Just really, really filthy. I wanted him to stop. But his fingers…they just felt everywhere. I couldn't stop him. He held me down." I was surprised when tears suddenly stung at my eyes. Before they could fall over my lower lashes, I wiped them with the back of my hand.

I heard the _fwooh fwooh_ of two tissues being plucked from a box and looked up to see Bonnie holding them out toward me.

I took them with a small smile. "Thank you."

She nodded, her eyes not leaving her legal pad. She seemed to really be concentrating on whatever she was writing. "And when you were able to get up? How did you feel then?"

"I felt determined. I mean, I was still scared, but I was determined to call for help."

She looked up at me. "And when you grabbed the alarm clock? Your feelings then?"

I watched her and knew she was carefully examining my reaction. I kept my face calm and simply looked away from her. "I didn't feel anything."

"You weren't scared? Or angry?" she asked.

I shook my head. "I was completely numb. My instinct to protect myself kicked in and that was it. There was no emotion behind the act."

"But when you backed away to sit against the wall," she began, recalling what she had seen on the footage, "there were obviously emotions running high then. What were those?"

The bright red stream of Tyler's blood creeping toward me flashed into my mind and instantly my stomach convulsed.

Bonnie was quick to grab the small trashcan beside her and hold it in front of me, in case I puked.

I waved it away and shook my head. "I'm okay, I'm okay," I told her, my breaths leaving me unevenly.

She waited several minutes for me to calm down before speaking again. "Elena, explain to me what just happened."

I looked up at her and pulled my lower lip in between my teeth.

"I know this is hard, but we said we'd work on you letting people in. This is an opportunity to start."

She was right and I knew it. I just didn't know how to put the images into words. "It was his blood," I finally answered.

"What about his blood?"

"I…I have a-a problem…I have a thing about blood…I can't, um... I can't handle it," I stammered.

"On the tapes, you seemed completely frozen with terror. I had assumed it was because you were looking at Tyler's body. You were looking at the blood weren't you?"

I nodded.

"How did you feel when you saw it?"

I ran my tongue over my lips to wet them; they were starting to get very dry as I thought about this certain topic. "I was…terrified. I didn't want it to reach me. I thought it was going to…because it was…it was moving…toward me…and..." my voice caught in my throat and the tears returned, "and…I just…I don't know what I would have done if it actually reached me." Quickly I picked up the tissues and wiped at my eyes.

"Where does this problem with blood stem from, Elena?"

I looked up at her, tears slowly rolling down my cheeks. It was time to do the diving. "My father."

If I weren't so upset, the expression on her face would have been comical. I could see that Bonnie was in utter shock that I had actually spoken freely about and brought up my family.

"And…um…what did he…why…" she began to stumble over her words as she quickly picked back up her legal pad and started writing. She took a deep breath, paused, and looked back up at me. "I'm sorry, let me gather my thoughts and present my question correctly." She inhaled deeply again. "What happened with your father?"

Immediately I knew it was time to take advantage of the rules of questioning she had laid out. "I'm uncomfortable with that question, Bonnie," I told her truthfully.

She smiled and nodded. "Okay, not a problem." She sat her paper and pen on the table beside her. "I actually think we've covered enough for today. I know you're tired and you really do need to rest." She looked back to me. "Elena, I'm extremely proud of the progress you made today. I know it was difficult for you to let me in, but I promise you won't regret it."

She walked over to the intercom button on her wall and pressed it.

"Yes, Miss Bennett?" a female voice answered.

"Liz, let Jenna know we're done in here. I'm sending Elena to the elevator," Bonnie told her.

I stood and walked to the door.

Bonnie placed her hand on the knob and turned to me before opening it. "So, I'll see you tomorrow, Elena?"

With a sigh, I nodded. If she thought I had made progress today, there was no reason to trump that by not coming back.

Her smile grew and I gasped as she unexpectedly pulled me into a hug.

"Really good job today, Elena," she said again as she pulled away.

"Thank you," I replied, feeling slightly embarrassed.

She pulled open the door and said goodbye as I headed for the elevator.

I stared at my reflection in the closed metal doors as I waited for Jenna and I realized there was a small smile lingering on my lips.

Bonnie said I had done well today. That meant I was going in the right direction.

And if I was going in the right direction, maybe I could make it to where I needed to be.

Maybe I could get away from dirty alleys and crazy assholes that wanted to kill me.

Maybe I could keep my nose clean for once, and in a quite literal sense.

The ding chimed above me, letting me know the elevator had reached this floor.

When the doors opened, my breath caught in my lungs.

There was Damon, not Jenna, standing before me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked in surprise.

He smiled and it was dazzling. "I came to see how you were today. Jenna said you were with Bonnie, so after your session, she sent me down here to get you. She's busy with another resident."

I stared at him in shock, my mouth hanging open slightly, and for a moment too long because the doors of the elevator began to close.

Quickly, Damon shot his arm out to stop it. "Well, are you getting in or not?" he asked.

My face heated with a blush and I stepped inside. I didn't know why I suddenly felt nervous around Damon. Was it because I was thinking of him more often now and was afraid he could see right through me and know?

He pressed the button for the first floor and my eyebrows pulled together. "What are you doing?"

He shrugged and leaned against the wall, all of his fingers minus his thumbs shoved into the pockets of his jeans. The cotton fabric of his t-shirt stretched across his torso and I saw the impeccable outlines of his abs. My heart sped up slightly. "Jenna said yesterday you were wanting to decorate your room. They've of coursed assigned you to a new room, but it's still the same boring set-up. There's no reason we shouldn't decorate it today."

I folded my arms across my chest. "An attempt to resume normality, I assume?"

He smirked and glanced at me as the doors chimed open. "After you."

I walked out the elevators and Damon led me to the front desk reception.

A woman with short blond hair looked up at us and smiled. I saw on her name-tag it said "Liz." This was who answered the intercom calls.

"How may I help you?" she smiled at us.

"We're looking for a storage closet. Jenna said it held room decorations," Damon answered.

"Oh, yes, you're going to walk down that hallway," she pointed behind us, "and take a right at the end, then a left at the end of the next one. The closet is the very last door on the right." She opened a small cabinet attached to the desk and I saw rows of hanging keys. She pulled one off the hook and handed it to Damon. "Here's the key. Please return it when you're finished."

"Thank you very much," he said as he took it and started down the hallway.

I followed him until we reached the closet and he opened it.

We stepped into a storage closet that was just a little larger than a standard walk-in closet at a house. There was an isle approximately a yard and a half wide and stretching six feet in. Stuff lined the walls all the way around.

I walked farther in and took in how things were arranged.

To my left, there were stacks of comforters in see-through plastic bags. They were organized by color. Beside that was shelves holding folded sheets in different colors. Directly in front of me there were shelves holding things like radios, picture frames, clocks, and stationary sets. To my right, there were colored curtains folded over wire hangers and accessorizing fashion pillows.

I glanced over my shoulder to see where Damon was and I lost my breath as I realized he was only a foot or so away, the door closed behind him. He was looking through a rack of magazines.

The silence made me uncomfortable and I felt it necessary to fill it while I started looking at the comforters. "So, I met your brother today."

"Yeah, I know," he answered. "I didn't know how comfortable you would feel with being in a room with another man and Stefan was the only one I trusted enough to do the job well."

I felt my face heat again. I didn't know if I could get used to Damon actually trying to take care of me. "He was nice," I responded.

"That's good."

As he answered, my eyes fell on a deep aqua colored comforter with specks of sea green and I smiled, deciding that was the one I wanted. I grabbed at the edges of the plastic and started tugging, trying to free it from it's position between two other comforters. I grunted slightly when it wouldn't budge and my fingers started slipping on the plastic.

Damon's hands suddenly appeared before me, easily grabbing the sides of the comforter and shimmying it out. I could feel his nearness on the side of my body, heat radiating from him. The sensation was odd. I didn't understand why I was suddenly so aware of it. I didn't know if I was imagining it or if he was literally that hot. I mean, Damon had actually kissed me once and I didn't feel anything such as this.

He moved away to sit the chosen comforter by the door and broke me from my momentary spell.

"Thanks," I mumbled, turning to look at something else.

"So, how did your session with Bonnie go today?" he asked.

I smiled, pleased that I actually had good news to tell. "She said it went really great."

"Do you agree?"

I nodded, my fingers grazing over the soft fabric of the curtains. "I do."

"That's awesome, Elena." I could hear the smile in his voice. "Do you feel like progress is being made?"

"I do," I answered again. "She told me I was on a self-destructive path, but I seem to be leading myself away from it. I'm working on letting people in."

He chuckled. "Sounds just like a therapist, for ya'."

I laughed along with him and turned around. "Yeah, she tends to get like that."

My laugh was cut short when I nearly ran into Damon, standing directly behind me.

He was looking down his nose at me, his eyes undecipherable.

I tried taking a step back was stopped by the hanging curtains.

"Elena," he started, "after I left last night, you know after you told me what you think you are, I realized I needed to apologize to you."

"W-why?" I stuttered.

"I want to say sorry if I have very made you feel like anything less than a normal human being. The mistakes you have made do not define you. I know with me forcing you here and continually focusing only on the drugs and stuff could cause you to believe that it's those things that identify you, but they don't. Protecting yourself from Tyler does not make you a murderer. I don't ever want you to think that way. But I've had to realize that I haven't helped in you simply being Elena. And I'm sorry."

I nodded. "It's okay."

"It's not," he shook his head, "but this apology is a start."

Slowly, he reached forward and took my hands in his own. Then, to my surprise, he lowered himself to sit on the floor, his legs folded indian-style beneath him. He tugged on my hands so I did the same, sitting so that our knees were touching.

"We've never sat and simply talked," he told me. "Not without something going on."

I grinned at the irony. "I realized that exact thing today when I was talking to your brother."

"Is that right?" he asked with a raised brow.

I nodded and blushed. "I didn't know you had a brother and I realized we never talked about things like that."

He released my hands when I was completely settled and smiled at me. "Okay, so let's talk about those things."

I looked at the door. "Won't Jenna become concerned when we're not back?"

He shrugged. "She'll be okay, I'm sure. She seemed extremely busy anyway."

I looked to the floor and began twisting my fingers together. "So who goes first?" Inwardly, I was praying he didn't say me. I wasn't ready to talk about my family and I didn't want to disappoint him if he expected me to.

"I will," he said, much to my relief. "What do you want to know?"

I shrugged. "Start with Stefan."

"Okay," he looked up in thought. "Stefan is my older brother. He is a detective like me. Both he and I are from Mystic Falls. And…that's it." He smiled and chuckled. "Not too fascinating, I know."

I laughed. "No, it was fine. Are you and Stefan close?"

"Eh, give or take," he shrugged with one shoulder. "It's not like we're best friends, but we don't hate each other."

"Well, that's good." I didn't know how else to respond. Sitting across from Damon was slightly nerve-wracking.

"So, tell me about you," he requested.

My smile fell. "I don't want to talk about my family," I whispered, hoping the rules Bonnie gave me for questions went for all conversations.

He nodded. "That's fine, you don't have to. I just want to know about _you_ specifically."

"Like what?" I asked, my brow furrowing.

"Do you have any hobbies? Do you like a certain type of music? What did you do before you came here?"

I narrowed my eyes slightly. "Um, you know what I did, Damon. And that was _all_ I did, really."

"Okay, so before that."

I bit down on my lower lip and tried to remember a time I wasn't high. "I…used to write," I finally answered.

"Write what?"

"Anything. Everything," I replied. "I had a purple journal that my mom gave to me. I would write about all sorts of stuff in it."

"Why don't you start again?"

A knot formed in my stomach and I shook my head. "I stopped after my…uh, my parents…so…I just don't think I could."

His smile was understanding. "I envy you, you know?"

My jaw fell slack. "What?"

"Your courage and strength is unbelievable."

I laughed. "You're a fucking cop, Damon. Nothing is more courageous and strong than that."

He rolled his eyes. "Not when compared to you."

I blushed and looked down at my hands. Nearly immediately his hand lifted and his finger tilted my chin up to look at him again.

"Why do you do that?" he asked.

"Do what?"

"Look away. Why can't you take a compliment?"

I shrugged. "I'm just not used to it."

"No one's ever told you that before?"

I shook my head.

He sighed. "Has anyone told you how beautiful you are?"

As if my face wasn't red enough, I could feel it growing darker.

"I just wanted you to know that," he went on. "I don't think you see yourself properly."

"How do you see me?" The question slipped out before I could stop it and I looked up into his blue eyes.

"You really want to know?" he asked.

Now it was time to backpedal. "I mean…no… you don't have to… I just… I didn't mean to ask."

He laughed and the sound was like music to my ears. "No, no, I'll tell you," he smiled. Slowly, he leaned toward me and whispered, "I think you're amazing."

I could feel my pulse hammering against my skin as I was completely mesmerized by his eyes. I glanced down at his lips, which were mere inches away and unconsciously ran my tongue across my own. I saw his eyes flick down to watch the motion and when he looked back up, his icy eyes had darkened.

My exhale was jagged and my nerves were being rattled as I felt my torso tilt forward on its own.

Almost like there was a magnetic pull, his did the same.

And then our lips connected.

This kiss was not like the last kiss where I was confused and unexpecting.

If this were a movie, fireworks would have exploded over our heads and rained sparkling colors around us.

His lips were firm yet soft and felt completely right against my own.

He leaned back slightly, then forward to kiss me again. He repeated the motion several times, each time sending chills up my spine.

Both of our hands continued to rest in our laps, but I could feel mine shaking and twitching, aching to reach up into his hair.

Finally, Damon pulled away and I instantly missed the contact.

I let my heavy lids flutter open and was met with his smile.

I couldn't help but return it.

"So, let's go decorate your room?" he questioned.

I nodded, finally releasing the breath I had been holding. "Yeah, let's."

We both stood and I automatically turned back toward the curtains.

Yes, I was definitely making progress.

* * *

**A/N: **Yay for progress!**  
**

As always, for more information on where I am with stories and what-not, either read my blog at writingtoberemembered(DOT)blogspot(DOT)com or follow me on twitter: APhobiac

Also, you should go watch the 'Addictions' video at (and because it won't allow me to post links here, you'll have to copy and paste this address and replace the (DOT) with a period) youtube(DOT)com/watch?v=slJDG2sHvgM

See you guys next chapter!


	8. Chocolate

**A/N** I normally don't start a story with a note from me, but if any of you guys were alerted that this chapter had posted, let me know in the comments because many are saying they were not alerted. :(

* * *

Day 13

Although the previous day had gone well despite the unfortunate circumstances of day eleven, day thirteen was a sharp turnaround that set my progress back drastically.

I had woken around 3:00 a.m., lying on my pretty new blue comforter, and puked all over it. Sweat beaded along my hairline and my hands shook violently.

I had been dreaming of Tyler.

My mind had painted vivid pictures of Tyler as he came after me. I recalled the way his eyes were wild and his lips were curved every so slightly in an arrogant smirk. My skin crawled as I felt his fingers grip at my legs, my torso, my breasts. My stomach convulsed as I felt droplets of his spit slide down the side of my neck after he ran his harsh tongue across it. And then just as suddenly as I saw him that way, his face morphed into this bloody, deformed, bulbous mass set on top of a rotting corpse. A swollen tongue lolled out of the opening meant to be a mouth and he continued to grab at me, his fingers now leaving the gooey slime of decomposed flesh wherever he touched. He leaned forward and I was met with the putrid stench of a decaying man before the engorged tongue landed on my cheek.

And then I woke up vomiting.

My 24-hour watch person sent the night nurse to my room when they saw me on the monitors. The nurse escorted me to the bathroom and told me to clean up while she helped the janitor in my room.

As I stood in the empty bathroom, staring at myself in the round mirror, I cringed at the emptiness I saw filling my eyes. My mind was beginning the process of shutting down where it would crawl back into its hidey-hole and sound the alarms that would trigger complete numbness. This was my defense. In times of distress, I would stop thinking, stop feeling. I would become this hollow shell of a person and not give a shit about anything.

I walked over to the shower, turned on the cold water, and stepped inside, still fully dressed in my oversized sleep t-shirt and cotton shorts. Each drop of the freezing water stung my skin on contact, but I welcomed the sensation. I had been doing so well yesterday. I wasn't ready to take two steps back. I needed to make sure that I kept feeling something.

I backed up against the tiled wall, and slid to a sitting position. The steady stream of water continued to rain down on me and I tilted back my head, allowing the icy pellets to hit my face.

It didn't take long for my tears to mix with the water as self-deprecating thoughts bombarded me.

I hated myself for what I had done to Tyler. I hated myself for what I knew was going to happen to Damon if he stayed around me. I hated myself for still wanting to fucking shoot up.

I was stupid.

I was worthless.

I was disgusting.

I was Elena fucking Gilbert. Stupid, worthless, disgusting Elena Gilbert.

I was a disease. To myself and to anyone who got near me.

I didn't deserve to be alive. Tyler did. My parents did. My brother did.

I didn't deserve to have friends. Damon did.

I didn't deserve to feel the peace that heroin brought to me.

I deserved to feel this. This detestation of myself.

I was an abomination.

My arms wrapped tightly around my body and I rocked back and forth in the floor of the shower, allowing my sobs to break freely from my chest. As my muscles began to spasm from the cold that was seeping to my bones, I lay down on my side and curled into the fetal position, not even caring that half of my face was submersed in pooled water.

Each tear that fell from my eyes brought on new rounds of self-loathing and I clung to the emotion as long as I could. I knew that when the last tears ran down the drain with the water, I wouldn't be able to fend off the numbness. The plunge into darkness would be inevitable and I needed to get my fill of being able to have emotions before I lost it entirely.

I'm not sure how long I lay in the bitter river of sorrow, but eventually my tears stopped falling and my body sunk against the hard floor, the shower still washing over me. When the nurse came to check on me, she found me in that exact position, my fingers, toes, and lips a deep shade of blue.

Quickly she turned off the water and spoke to the front desk person on the intercom, telling them to wake Jenna.

She pulled me from the floor and wrapped a thick towel around my body, rubbing her hands up and down on the outside of it to create friction meant to warm me up.

Jenna came running in the bathroom not long after dressed in a royal blue robe, her hair completely disheveled. She took one look at the state I was in and let out a deep sigh before wrapping an arm around my shoulder and leading me out of the bathroom.

The janitor was just exiting my bedroom as we approached it and I could smell the strong cleaning fluids even in the hallway.

The sheets and comforter on the bed had been replaced with the same old white ones. So much for decorations.

I sat on the edge of my bed, my shoulders slumped over, my leg bouncing rapidly, and Jenna sat in the desk chair.

"What's going on, Elena?" she asked me softly.

"I need to leave," I answered with a raspy voice.

"Why?"

I pulled the towel around me tighter and a shudder ran through me. "I need to get high." There was no point in beating around the bush. Although I didn't deserve to get high, it's what I needed.

"Elena, we both know you don't _need_ to get high. You just want to."

I shook my head defiantly. "No, I _need_ it, Jenna. You don't know…" I exhaled raggedly and squeezed my eyes shut. "…You don't know what's going on in my head. You don't see what I see. I need to make it stop."

I heard the chair squeak as pressure was relieved from it and I opened my eyes to see Jenna standing.

"I'll be right back," she told me before walking out of the room. Moments later she returned with a plastic shopping bag and dropped it in my lap.

"What is this?" I asked, opening the bag and finding individually wrapped candy.

"Chocolate," she responded.

My brow furrowed in confusion. I pushed around a few pieces on the top and confirmed her statement. The bag was full of small square Dove chocolates, round Reese's, and rectangle Snickers.

I looked back up at her. "What are these for?"

She sat down in the chair again and leaned forward, her elbows propped on her knees. "You've been without heroin for a little over a week now. Although your chemical need for it is gone, your body still misses it. What's happening now is your body is trying to make you find a reason to use. Whatever you're seeing is a result of your own body trying to push you back to the heroin. Chocolate will help you because it acts on dopamine receptors in the brain, satisfying whatever craving your body is having."

I scoffed. It seemed very unlikely that chocolate was the answer to all of my fucked up problems.

"Just try it, okay?" she asked me, her tone nearing that of defeat.

I sighed and nodded. "Yeah, okay."

"Come on," she started, standing back up. "You look like a drowned rat and we need to get you dry bandages for your arms."

* * *

I didn't sleep at all the rest of the night. When the first rays of morning began to pour through my window, I was sitting on my floor surrounded by purple, gold, and brown foils, holding another Reese's to my lips. I didn't know if the chocolates were actually working or if it was my newfound numbness blocking out the anguishing thoughts, but I continued to revel in both just to make sure that my mind stayed clear.

By midmorning, the bag began to run low and panic swelled inside me. If they were gone, I would start to remember again. I needed to get more.

"Yes?" the woman's voice sounded in my room from the intercom.

"I need more chocolate," I declared loudly, reaching in the plastic bag for another Snickers.

"I'll send Jenna to your room," she said and the beep let me know she was gone.

I sat back down on the floor and tipped out the remaining candy from the bag. Quickly my fingers separated empty wrappers that had wound up in the bag again from the actual candy and counted what was left. 9 pieces. 1 Dove, 5 Reese's, and 3 Snickers.

I looked up when there was a knock on the door and Jenna stepped in. Immediately her brow furrowed and her eyes seemed troubled.

"Liz said you were asking for more chocolate," she told me, her eyes raking over the piles of empty wrappers.

I nodded, my eyes returning to what was left of my candy. "I only have 9 pieces left." I picked up the last Dove chocolate and popped it in my mouth. "8 left," I mumbled around the candy.

Jenna knelt down in front of me and took the empty shopping bag. "Elena, honey, you know you don't have to eat them consecutively for them to fulfill the craving, right?"

No, I didn't know that. She hadn't really explained to me how chocolate remedies were supposed to work. Despite that fact, however, I was still going to keep at it how I was. Why knock something that was obviously working? "Can I have more or not?" I asked, my tone bordering on rude.

She stared at me for several seconds before shaking her head slightly and standing back up. "Come on and we'll go get you more."

I resisted the urge to hug her and simply nodded. I picked up the last 8 candies, stood, and followed her.

She led me down the hallway to the third floor reception desk near the elevators. She stepped behind it and searched through a few drawers before pulling out another plastic shopping bag. Just as she held it out and I reached for it, she pulled it away and narrowed her eyes slightly.

"Elena, before I give you this bag, you need to understand that we are not in the business of creating new addictions. This will be the last bag you get for the next two days, so make it last. If you empty it before then, you're just up a creek and I can't help you. Do you understand?"

Her words sparked another fit of panic in my stomach. They wouldn't refill my bag if I needed it? How would I deal with the cravings?

I stared at the bag swaying in her hand and nodded. I would just have to cross that bridge when I came to it. Right now, in this moment, there was chocolate and it was right in front of me.

She smiled and handed me the bag. I combined the chocolates in my hands with the new bag and sighed, relief coursing through me once more.

"So, how are you feeling this morning?" she asked and I could feel her eyes roaming over my body. I'm certain I looked like shit. I hadn't slept, creating deep, dark circles under my eyes, and my hair had dried awkwardly from my pity-party in the shower.

I shrugged. "As well as can be expected, I suppose," I muttered, searching my new bag for a Reese's. I found one and started unwrapping it.

"Would you like to visit the first floor entertainment room, today?" she asked.

My hand froze halfway to my mouth and I looked up at her, my eyes wide. I had grown so accustomed to being confined to my room that I had forgotten that there was an entire facility full of people like me who congregated in an entertainment room. I never thought I'd be allowed to go there.

"You're bound to catch flies, you know?" she giggled and I realized she was referring to my opened mouth. A blush darkened my cheeks and I quickly snapped my mouth close. "So, would you like to?" she asked again.

I looked down at the piece of chocolate melting between my fingers and shrugged again. "I guess."

As she went to alert an elevator I ate the piece of chocolate and watched her warily. Although I didn't like how things were, I was getting used to it. Would it be a mistake to change the way my days worked?

I rolled my eyes and scoffed at the thought. So far my days had consisted of illing, trying to kill myself, and successfully killing others. It's doubtful changing things up would hurt anything.

* * *

My fingers nervously wound themselves in the handle of the plastic shopping bag as we neared the entertainment room. I could hear several people laughing, the sound of music, and the continuous chattering of an infomercial on TV.

I jumped slightly and cringed when Jenna's hand touched my back. I instantly felt sorry for not being able to accept an offering of comfort like a normal human being. I tried to smile at her, but it felt awkward and forced.

"It's going to be fine," she assured me. "If you don't like hanging out here, we'll find something else for you to do."

I nodded and turned my eyes back to the door we were quickly approaching. Before we even entered, I felt the eyes of all the residents inside turn to look at me through the glass windows. Jenna pushed open the door and led me inside. My fingers were gripping the bag tightly, almost painfully, and I kept my head down as I walked over to an empty couch.

"I'll be back," Jenna smiled before patting my shoulder and leaving.

Awkwardness descended upon me as the only sounds in the room were the radio and TV. Everyone else had stopped speaking and their stares were burning right through me. Slowly I unwrapped a Snickers and popped it into my mouth, keeping my eyes low and my head hung.

Suddenly the couch cushion beside me lowered as a petite blonde jumped onto it and sat indian-style facing me. I glanced at her and she was smiling broadly, her blue eyes sparkling.

"Hi," she greeted me, her voice full of spunk.

I nodded once, pulling my bag closer to my body. "Hello," I responded quietly.

"I'm Caroline," she went on as if she didn't notice how uncomfortable I was. "And yoooou," she drew out the word, "are Elena."

My brow furrowed. "Yes?" It was meant to be a statement, but I was confused about how she already knew me.

"Oh, don't worry, we all know who you are," she told me as if she could read my mind. "Definitely the talk of the town around here."

My face heated and my head tilted even lower, my shoulders slumping. It would be my luck that my shit-life was interesting enough for people in here to find it gossip worthy.

"You've never been down here before," she stated confidently.

I shook my head. "No, I haven't."

"Because you've been on lock down, right?"

I winced at how much she and everyone else seemed to know about me. I just nodded.

"Well, you haven't been missing much," she said, turning her body so that her back was to the couch. "It's really boring here. Well, it _was_ boring but you've made it much more interesting. With like killing that guy and everything. That'll keep people on their toes for weeks, I tell ya. So crazy."

Apparently _Caroline_ had no sort of filter and it was a little irritating. I didn't need her telling me how crazy I was, I already knew.

"So that's chocolate isn't it?" she continued.

Her sudden change in topic was staggering and it took me a few moments to respond. "Yes."

"Ohh, yeahhh, because you're a heroin addict. Forgot about that. I love chocolate, which is odd." She stopped speaking for a moment and was obviously thinking over what she had said. I didn't understand why it would be odd for her to like chocolate. She eventually shrugged and kept on. "I wish they gave me chocolate. They don't. That would be cool if they did, though." Her words flowed out a mile a minute and it was difficult keeping up. I knew exactly why they didn't give her chocolate; she was hyper enough.

"What are you here for, Caroline?" I asked unabashedly, hoping that if she became uncomfortable she would leave.

The question didn't deter her at all. "Oh, I'm mad," she laughed.

"Mad?" I hadn't heard anyone refer to themselves as mad before unless they were genuinely angry, but she was laughing.

She nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I'm insane. You know, like, coo-coo." She shrugged her shoulders quickly twice to accompany the "coo-coo" as she said it.

"I thought this was a rehab facility," I said, my eyesbrows pulling together in confusion.

"The third floor," she nodded. "But the second floor is myyy home. That's where you see Bonnie, right? It's the psych floor."

"Ah," was my only response and I suddenly felt the urge to scoot away from Caroline a bit.

"I've been here for almost a year now," she informed me.

My jaw fell slack. "A year?" I gasped.

"Yep. They keep telling me I'm not human normal yet and I can't go home."

I felt it was rude to ask, but her wording made me too curious not to. "Why do they say you're not… _human _normal?"

"Oh, I'm a vampire," she smiled brightly.

Immediately I stood up and turned to look for Jenna. This was too much, too soon. I definitely was not ready to hang out in the entertainment room yet.

"Wait!" Caroline cried, standing up as well. "Where are you going?"

I avoided her eyes and stared at the door. "I'm not feeling well," I told her quickly.

Her lower lip stuck out in a pout and her face fell. "You're afraid of me, aren't you?"

I wanted to laugh. Afraid of her, no. Weirded out, yes. I settled on only telling her the first half of that thought. "No, I'm not afraid of you, Caroline."

My eyes grew when she reached out and grabbed my bandaged arm. Surprisingly, I didn't flinch away from the contact. "Please don't go," she asked softly. "I don't have any friends here. I thought maybe…since we both knew death…we could like… we could kind of be like friends, or something."

Pity washed over me as I looked at the girl. She was staring down at the floor, a defined frown on her lips. I sympathized with her. I knew what it meant to be alone.

With a deep sigh and a few thoughts damning what I was about to do, I sat back down and a huge smile broke across her face.

And that was when I suddenly found myself with a vampire friend named Caroline.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry this chapter took so long. I've been busy working on my Delena one-shot for Fandoms Fight the Floods (read below).

So what did you guys think of this chapter? A few of you guessed that when Caroline popped up in the story she would be a resident. :) I love her. I think she's funny.

I kind of freaked myself out with the description of the Tyler dream. I had to stop writing for a while. Lol.

Anyway, in non-_Addictions_-story related news, I'm super excited to share with you all about how my fiance got me tickets for the EyeCon event and this little lady will be meeting Mr. Ian Somerhalder in the flesh. I'm beyond thrilled and just might die. :D

As always, for more information on where I am with stories and what-not, either read my blog at (REPLACE THE DOT'S WITH ACTUAL PERIODS) writingtoberemembered(DOT)blogspot(DOT)com or follow me on twitter: APhobiac

* * *

Alright, for my Fandoms Fight the Floods one-shot, I'm giving you guys a teaser. If you find the story interesting, you can donate until the end of March to receive the compilation of stories.

(If you don't know what Fandoms Fight the Floods is, read here: fandomsfightthefloods(DOT)blogspot(DOT)com/p/home(DOT)html)

Here's the information about my one-shot:

My story is called _A Collegiate Experience_  
Rated M for all of your favorite smut.  
Delena one-shot.  
Summary: Elena is forced to visit the college she graduated from and learns more during this trip than the four years she paid for.

If you want to see the banner for this story, go to my blog!

**TEASER FOR _A Collegiate Experience_:**

**

* * *

**I stared at him incredulously. I didn't understand why he would lie to get me into his office and I didn't really appreciate it. And I was starting to get really hungry. I picked up my shoes and stood. "Well, I'm pretty hungry… so I'm gonna head to the food court. You can join me if you want, but if not, again, it was nice meeting you." I turned around and started for the door. His declaration drastically altered the atmosphere in the office and made me uncomfortable.

My hand grasped the silver metal handle and attempted to turn it, but it wouldn't budge. "Hey, I think your door is loc—," I started, turning to look over my shoulder at Damon. My words were caught short when I realized he was standing barely a foot away from me. I turned entirely around, my back pressed against the door. "What are you doing?" I asked quickly.

He lifted a hand and gently ran his knuckles along my jaw line, creating the same electricity as earlier.

* * *

And that's all you get! If you want to read more, go donate a minimum of $5 to the cause and you'll get this story plus soooo many more from some amazing authors.

See you guys next chapter!


	9. Information

Day 16

A cool breeze brushed my hair from my face as the lawn swing cut through the air moving forward. My skin tingled as warm rays from the sun shone down and kissed me gently. I lifted another piece of chocolate to my lips and allowed my eyes to flutter close.

For the first time in a long time, I was calm.

My pulse was steady, my mind clear, my body relaxed.

Even the incessant chattering of Caroline to my right wasn't enough to break my tranquility.

It had been three days since I first met my new friend. Sometimes I found that I wanted to kill her as her joyous voice grated on my jittery nerves, but most times I enjoyed the company more than I expected. I still didn't know much about her – not that I actually listened to what she was saying very often. Frequently I simply nodded and smiled, giving the impression that I was invested in her one-way conversations. I was just happy about not being confined to my room any longer.

I met with Bonnie every morning around 10. She was concerned with my seemingly new addiction to the chocolates, but she told me she doesn't think I'll keep at it much longer; something about getting sick of things and whatnot. I didn't really pay attention to those conversations either.

Since the dream I had of Tyler as a zombie woke me, he had been absent from most of my thoughts. Not only had thoughts of him stopped, but those of my family as well. For the time being, it seemed that my haunting past had decided to take a break. I knew, however, that it was only festering wherever it was and that when it returned, there would be hell to pay.

I popped another piece of chocolate in my mouth at the idea of it returning. These candies seemed to be doing a good job at fending off my evil. I needed to keep them coming.

"Ugh, I'm so sick of these clothes, ya' know?" Caroline asked, breaking me from my momentary reverie.

"What do you mean?" I questioned.

"All this freaking _white_," she clarified. "I want to put some color back in my wardrobe! My old wardrobe was like a rainbow. I wore every color under the sun." She was pulling her tank top forward by the bottom hem so that she could look down at it with a grimace.

I really had no response to her statement so I answered with a casual, "Hm."

She folded her legs under her so that I was left to propel the swing on my own. "I mean, I get why they make us wear only white. They want us to see ourselves as pure and blah, blah, blah. Like we're not all just fucked up. That's the same reason the rooms have white walls and floors and bedding and… just everything, ya' know? This is an 'untainted facility' as Bonnie once told me. She said the décor helps us trust the place."

A snort accidentally escaped me and Caroline looked at me quizzically. If I had gone with that train of thought, I wouldn't be in this situation. I knew the heroin Tyler was giving me wasn't clean; it wasn't white. I should've known to only trust that which was white.

Caroline looked back down at her clothes and let my response go. "So, did you wear lots of colors? Before you came here, that is."

My fingers mechanically began unwrapping another chocolate. "Not really."

"What did you wear?"

I placed the candy on my tongue and shrugged. "I don't know, Caroline. Lots of black stuff, I guess."

"So you were like emo, huh?"

I looked at her with raised brows. "I was like what?"

She smiled. "You've never been called emo before?"

"I have no idea what the fuck that means but I feel like I should hit you," I told her honestly. Surely she was insulting me.

She giggled. "No, no, no. Emo's not bad. Emo people are just like people that wear black and dark colors and are all moody and stuff."

I rolled my eyes at her explanation of the word. Caroline was obviously one of those people that liked to label others. "Well, I don't think I'd be that because I'm not really all that moody."

"Suuure you're not," she laughed and looked away from me.

My brow furrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She looked back at me with condemnatory eyes. "Everyone here is moody, Elena. That's one of the reasons we end up here. We get angry and sad and then we find ways to make it go away."

"That's why you're here?" I asked.

"Pretty much. I mean, it's a little different for me. I didn't go looking for a way to make my problems go away, it just found me. When I was turned, ya' know?" She looked up at the sky and her blond hair fell back to reveal her porcelain like face.

I felt bad for Caroline as I watched her. There was no indication in her features that she doubted the fact she was a vampire. The idea didn't seem foolish to her at all. I decided to see just how much she believed. "How were you turned?" I asked her.

"I don't really remember," she replied. "One day I just woke up and bam! I was a vampire."

I bit down on my lip, not entirely sure how to respond. Clearly Caroline had mental issues, but how do you tell someone that? "So…you don't remember who did it?" As I asked the questions, I felt uneasy for playing into her fantasy. I'm sure Bonnie would say that it's unhealthy for her.

"Not really. I just remember he was…beautiful." As she spoke the words, a dreamy glaze washed over her eyes and she appeared to be seeing very far away. "He was the most perfect man I'd ever seen. And he saved me. His gift to me took me away from all my troubles."

My chest grew heavy with sadness as I watched her. Caroline was just a normal girl with problems who was obviously playing into the knight in shining armor dream…although her knight was a fanged bloodsucker. Her mind obviously took it too far until she truly believed the event had happened and a man had come to save her.

I opened my mouth to respond, but before the first sound could escape, the sight of a slowly creeping, all black, two-door car caught my attention. Normally I wouldn't have noticed, but the fact that it was moving at a slugs pace down the drive was odd. Caroline and I were about half a mile from the front doors of the facility, in the middle of the field I had once run across in an attempt at escaping. The drive from the main road made a huge loop from the road to the facility then back to the road. The car was on the side of the loop closest to us.

As it neared, an uncomfortable nagging sensation tugged at my body, alerting me to possible danger. The car pulled in front of us, slowed a bit more, and then continued on toward the front of the facility. The sensation faded away as they passed us and I let out a quiet exhale.

I turned to look back at Caroline and as I did, I heard the screeching of breaks. I turned my head and saw that the car had stopped at the halfway point between the building and where we were sitting.

Both doors swung open and my body automatically stiffened. Two men climbed out of the driver and passenger seats and as they turned around my eyes grew wide.

Mason and Richard Lockwood.

"Shit, shit, shit." I quickly stood and grabbed Caroline's arm, forcefully pulling her from the swing. "Come on, we have to go," I said hastily, trying my best to hold on to her and my bag of chocolates with suddenly shaky hands. I began leading her away from the facility and from the approaching men.

"Elena, that hurts!" Caroline whined as she tried tugging her arm from my grasp. "We're not supposed to go this way! We're going to get in trouble!"

"Caroline, shut up!" I said through gritted teeth. I glanced over my shoulder and my heart plummeted when I saw how close the two men were getting. I took a few deep breaths and turned my attention to Caroline. "When I say run, you run as fast as you can back to the building, okay?"

Caroline's eyes widened with fear. "Why?"

"Just do it okay!" I commanded her aggressively.

Her blond curls bounces as she nodded her head. I looked back over my shoulder again and a rush of adrenaline shot through me. For every step we made, the men seemed to take two. I mentally calculated how soon they would reach us and began a count down in my mind. _5…4…3…2…_"Now!" I yelled and released Caroline's arm.

Both she and I spun around and took off in a sprint. The men, however, were faster and we didn't make it far before they caught us both around our waists, holding us back.

I dropped my bag of chocolates and began clawing at his arms. "Fucking let me go!" I shrieked as Mason's muscles tensed around my body. I heard similar cries come from Caroline as Richard detained her.

"Stop, Elena!" Mason shouted in my ear. He released one hand from my waist so that he could grab my arms and bend them back behind my back. I whimpered as I was immediately tilted at an awkward angle and unable to move. I looked to Caroline and Richard and saw that he had one arm around her neck and the other locked around her torso, holding her arms against her body.

Tyler's image flashed in my mind and I suddenly realized they must be here to finish his job. "Don't h-hurt her! J-just me!" I stammered, looking up into the hooded eyes of Mason.

"We're just here to talk. We're not going to hurt anyone. I'm going to let you go, and I'm trusting you not to run," he told me in a calm voice. "Rich is going to hold on to your friend to make sure that doesn't happen. Okay?"

I nodded my head quickly and he released his hold. I straightened up and took a few steps back from him, rubbing at the sore spots on my wrists. I glanced over at Caroline and Richard was still holding her, just as Mason had said. I turned my attention back to him. "Why are you here?"

"I told you. To talk," he repeated.

My eyes flickered back to Caroline. "About what?"

"You gave that cop our names, didn't you?"

I looked to him and my mouth pressed into a firm line. I wasn't about to admit something he wasn't calling me out on.

He held up his hands slightly and the hard features of his face softened. "It's okay, Elena. We're not mad. But we are being set up."

My brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"They think we killed Vic!" Richard suddenly interrupted. "But I swear to god I would never hurt that girl, Elena. Swear to fucking god."

I stared at the two men and part of me was insisting that I listen to what they had to say. The other part of me was saying to run. I decided to see if they would do a little give and taking. "Let Caroline go and I'll listen to you," I said to Mason, knowing Richard would follow his instructions.

Mason eyed me for a long while before giving one hard nod. Richard released Caroline without delay and she rushed over to my side. I watched as she looked to Richard and… hissed? Richard's eyebrows rose in confused surprise and he looked to Mason. I knew what he was thinking – Caroline was crazy.

"Are you alright?" I whispered to her as I looked at the red marks on her neck.

"Damn humans," she muttered as she straightened her clothes.

I smiled slightly at her comment, relieved that she seemed to be just fine. I looked back at the men. "Okay. Talk."

"Look we know that the last time you saw Vic was when she was with us, but we didn't hurt her, Elena," Mason told me. "Rich and I both dropped her back at her house. That was the last time we saw her."

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

"Because you're in good with that cop," Richard said. "You need to tell him it wasn't us."

I narrowed my eyes. "You guys tried to kill me. Why the hell would I believe anything you'd say?"

Mason's head shook. "No, we didn't. I promise you we didn't."

"That's not what Tyler said," I bit out through clenched teeth.

"Man, fuck that kid!" Richard scoffed. "He's the reason we're fucking in this mess right now. I'm glad you fucking killed him, Elena. It does us all some good."

I looked down at the ground, uncomfortable with Tyler's death coming up. "Why did he tell me that then? I mean he got the bad drugs from you."

"Hell no, he didn't," Mason disagreed. "I would never waste shit like that. If I wanted somebody dead I'd do it with a gun or something. I mean, you of all people know how much that stuff costs."

All of this new information was making me slightly dizzy. I didn't know if I should trust what they were telling me or if I should grab Caroline and get back to the facility. "So why did Tyler do all of this, then?" I asked.

"He knew who killed Vic," Mason informed me. "At least we think he did. He was acting so fucking weird the week before you ended up here. We don't think he killed her himself because he was just too fucking prissy for that, but we think he knew who did. And we're thinking he thought you knew, too."

My brow furrowed. "I don't know anything, Mason. I only gave your names because I was being honest with when I last saw Vicki. Tyler said he was trying to hurt me because I gave your names."

The two men shared a confused look for a moment before Mason finally responded. "Tyler didn't know you gave our names."

"Yes, he did," I countered. "He directly told me he knew I gave the names. He even said I last saw Vicki with you guys."

Richard spoke next. "Elena, Tyler had no idea we were being suspected of the murder. When we got back from questioning that first night, he asked where we had been and we weren't allowed to talk about it so we said we had gone to eat and he just nodded and kept playing his video games."

"He must've been talking about someone else. He must've thought you snitched on another person," Mason added.

"But I didn't see Vicki past that night!" I argued. "I didn't give any other names!"

He shrugged. "Look, I don't know, but we're just here to tell you to watch your back. It's not us that you should be worried about. Rich and I are gonna' hide out for a while until this shit is taken care of. Just tell your cop guy that it wasn't us. Maybe you need to start thinking real hard about the week before you ended up here."

He walked up to me and I gasped when he pulled me into an awkward hug. "Be good, kid," he mumbled into my ear. He released me with a scruffy cough and clearing of his throat before turning to his brother. "This it, man?"

Richard nodded. "Yeah, that was it. Take care, Elena." He looked to Caroline and was clearly about to say something until her upper lip curled to reveal her surprisingly two sharp canine teeth. His eyes fell to the ground and he hurried after Mason who was already trudging back to the car.

* * *

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring down at my hands later that night.

Caroline and I had promptly returned to the facility after the men had gone and I was grateful that Caroline didn't question me about what had just happened. Instead she gave me a slight hug, told me she was tired, and left to go to her room. No one inside the facility had seen the exchange between the Lockwood men and us, so the faculty didn't question me either. I was able to go straight to my room and think about the information I had been given.

Tyler had directly told me that night, "_We know it was you who gave that fucking detective names."_ He was talking about Richard and Mason. Wasn't he?

I begrudgingly pulled up the conversation Tyler and I had before his death.

"_You were the last person who saw that bitch Vicki with them," _he had said to me. And based on that statement, yes, I had last seen Vicki with Richard and Mason. But the Lockwood men claimed that Tyler had no idea they were even being suspected.

I began thinking back to the week I had been put here and the task was difficult. That week I had either been so high or so fucked by withdrawals that everything was a blur. Time meant nothing that week unless I was shooting up.

I don't remember seeing Vicki at all beyond that night. I don't even remember having conversations with people beyond Tyler when he gave me the drugs and Damon when he got the names; the days leading up to that were so scrambled and confusing.

"Elena?" Jenna's voice sounded in my room.

I looked over to the intercom. "Yes?"

"The shower is free. Would you like to use it?"

I sighed, realizing that for tonight I was obviously not going to decipher the words spoken by Tyler. I stood up and began rummaging through the drawers of my bedside table, searching for my nightclothes. "Yeah, I guess," I answered her as I found the oversized t-shirt and shorts I was searching for.

I walked over to the door and the handle made a nearly silent click noise of the lock being unlatched. I pushed it open and walked myself down to the bathroom. This was one benefit of having earned the slight trust of Jenna and the facility – I didn't need a babysitter to walk me everywhere.

I closed the bathroom door and sat my clothes on the sink counter top. I opened the cabinets of shampoos, conditioners and body washes and found my favorites, then grabbed a clean towel and rag from the shelf below.

I threw the towel over the couch I had first sat on when I had arrived that first night and placed the bathing liquids and rag inside the shower.

I tugged my tank-top over my head and threw it in the floor, then followed with my bra. I began lowering the white cargo pants from my hips when something fell from my pocket, only catching my attention by the light reflecting from it.

My brow furrowed and I pulled back up the pants before kneeling down to pick up what had fallen.

My minds eye drew up the image of Mason's awkward hug.

My heart stopped in my chest and my fingers trembled as the smooth feel of plastic met my skin.

My eyes grew wide and my breath escaped me jaggedly as I lifted the baggie up to the light.

Heroin.

* * *

**A/N: **Super, super sorry it took so long for this chapter. It's the middle of the semester and things are getting crazy here, so please bear with me.

Soooo what did you guys think of the chapter? Should she believe the Lockwood men? Did they give her more 'tainted' drugs?

And, yes, Damon will return in the next chapter.

See you guys next chapter! :)


	10. Desire

Like the baggie was a scolding hot coal, I dropped it to the floor and backed a few steps away. Slowly, I lifted a shaking hand to my mouth and stared wide-eyed at the substance. Only one thought ran through my mind: What do I do?

As I stood in the bathroom, I realized that the decision I made in that moment would define me permanently.

I was either a junkie, or I wasn't.

I sat down on the couch, my leg bouncing furiously, and weighed my pros and cons.

Pro – I could get high. I could feel the sweet release of tension as the drug seeped into my veins and permeated my body.

Con – I could lose weeks of progress. I could revert back to a fucking mess and throw everything I'd been working toward away.

Pro – I could get high. I could forget about this situation that I'm in. For just a little while, I could be nowhere and anywhere and completely free.

Con – I could hurt the people cheering for me. If they found out, any of them – Damon, Bonnie, Jenna, Caroline – they would be devastated.

Pro – I. Could. Get. Fucking. High.

In my mind, the pros completely outweighed the cons, but my few weeks of being sober had taught me that my mind was really too fucked up to make decisions like this.

I jumped back up and picked up the tiny bag. Simply feeling the plastic was enough to lighten the load on my chest and bathe me in calm. I couldn't image what using the substance within would do.

I walked over to my fresh clothes and tucked it between the fabrics, deciding that right now, I wasn't ready to make a decision.

I finished undressing and climbed into the shower. I tried to focus on allowing the steaming water to ease the tension in my shoulders and my back, but the entire time my eyes would dart through the transparent shower door to my clothes on the counter top. I would picture the clear plastic baggie underneath and instantly get goose bumps.

I wanted it.

So. Fucking. Badly.

I closed my eyes and lifted my face up into the flowing water. I needed to take my mind off the substance. I needed to think of something else.

My heart stuttered as Damon's face entered my mind.

I hadn't seen him since he helped decorate my room, nor had I heard from him. Now that Mason and Richard had stopped by, I understood why. Apparently they were having difficulties with the case.

As his crystal eyes lingered in my mind, I thought back to our kiss in the closet.

It had been sweet and short, but altogether perfect. Something about Damon intrigued me. I found myself wanting to know him more. Wanting to touch him more. His lips felt ideal against my own and I wondered how they would feel against other places.

A shudder ran through my body and lingered between my legs. The sensation shocked me and I pulled back from the water. The moment made me acutely aware of how much time had passed since I had last been with a man. And not been with a man in an I-want-drugs-so-I'll-fuck-you type of way, but in an I-want-you-and-only-you type of way.

But most of the reasoning behind not being with a man in a purely romantic way had been because I simply wasn't interested in a relationship. The drugs had taken front seat to all other priorities before and I only needed them to be happy. I didn't need a man.

Maybe now I did.

The drugs weren't going to complete me anymore. Even if I took them, they wouldn't satisfy my entire being. I needed to find a balance.

After washing my hair and body, I turned off the shower water and dried.

I walked over to the clothes with the hidden baggie and carefully placed the bag on the countertop. I stared at it the entire time I dressed in my nightclothes.

I had several options of how to deal with the drugs.

I could toss them. I could throw them in the trash, flush them down the toilet, rinse them away in the sink. I could rid my hands of them and move on.

I could tell Jenna or Bonnie or Damon. I could tell them I need help and let them remove the drugs from me, then council me on why I don't need them.

I could take them. I could sit down in the bathroom floor and inhale the white powder. I could give in.

Or I could wait. I could pocket the drugs and just see what happened. Maybe I would never find a need to use again and I could prove to myself I was better than this.

The part of my mind struggling with losing the drug when I had been without it for so long helped me to decide on the latter.

I picked up my dirty clothes, towel, and rag, and held them in a pile in my arms. Then discreetly, I concealed the small bag in the palm of my hand and exited into the hallway.

My heartbeat picked up speed and I felt intensely paranoid as my bare feet padded against the tiled floor. My eyes shot around me constantly, expecting Jenna or Bonnie to pop up out of nowhere and call me out on my deceit.

I stepped up to the metal cabinet hidden in the wall of the hallway that led down to a laundry room and carefully dropped each piece of fabric into it, taking extra caution to not open my clenched hand. When they were all on their way down the metal slide to the laundry room, I folded my arms over my chest and tucked my fist into the crook of my arm. Hurriedly I completed my trek back to my room.

Once inside, I glanced up at the cameras and took a few deep breaths, instructing myself to play it cool; act normal.

Casually, I walked over to the dresser where my clean clothes were tucked away and I pulled it open. Acting as if I was picking out an outfit for the next day, I pulled out a baby doll dress and laid it on the bed. I took several minutes to look it over before nodding to myself and picking it back up. Slowly, I began the process of meticulously refolding it. As I did so, I slipped the bag of heroin into the innermost fold and carefully placed it back into the dresser. I then acted as if I was rearranging the dresser and moved a pair of capris and two shirts on top of the dress, pushing it into the back and out of the way.

When the dresser was closed, my heart finally began to calm and I sat on the bed.

What was I getting myself into?

The more practical part of my mind was telling me that it was stupid to keep the drugs anywhere near me. They were a temptation I didn't need and would only get in the way of my progress.

The junkie part of my mind was telling me, hey, you never know what'll happen.

Sitting on top of my bedside table was my bag of chocolates. I picked out one of the Dove's, popped it into my mouth, then lay back on the bed, pulling the sheets up to my chin.

As the candy melted slowly in my mouth, I closed my eyes and pictured Damon's face again. A slight tightening in my chest alerted me to the fact that I kind of missed him. Yeah, he was the reason I was here and I kind of hated him for that, but once you get a little piece of Damon, it's hard not to want more. He automatically fills this place in your life and when he's not there, there's an obvious void you have to tiptoe around.

He was a drug all his own.

* * *

I stood with my arms folded across my chest, lifting up and down rapidly on the balls of my feet, staring at the button to call the front desk.

That night I had barely slept at all. The sugar from the chocolates had me wired and the feeling of missing Damon had grown fairly unbearable.

I didn't know how long it would be until he voluntarily came to visit me again and I realized there was a way I could take myself to him.

I had to tell him about Mason and Richard's visit.

The thoughts in my mind were combating in a deafening war.

_Tell Jenna to call Damon!_

_They'll take the drugs!_

_Don't tell them about the drugs!_

_You'd be lying to them!_

_They'll search your room!_

_They won't suspect it!_

_They'll suspect it!_

_You need to tell them!_

_You don't even know if Mason and Richard were being honest!_

_Vicki needs you to help even if the lead goes nowhere!_

_You need to see Damon!_

_You don't need him!_

_Eat more chocolate!_

My eyes closed and my jaw clenched together tightly. With my index finger and thumb, I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried to concentrate, hoping to filter through all the prattle.

What was most important right now?

Seeing Damon. Consequences be damned.

Without thinking about it for a moment longer, my hand flew out and I hit the button.

"Yes?" Liz answered.

"I need to see Jenna. Like, now." I responded.

"I'll call her, dear."

Within minutes, Jenna was at my door, a concerned look on her face. "You needed to see me?" she asked.

"I need to go to the police station," I blurted quickly. No turning back now.

Her brow furrowed. "Why?"

* * *

I was back in the same room, spinning in the same office chair. My arms were crossed and my lips were pursed tightly. I was not at all pleased to be sitting across the table from the _other_ Salvatore detective.

"Ms. Gilbert, you brought yourself here," Stefan said slowly.

I scoffed. "I thought I'd be speaking with Damon."

"Well, Damon is currently busy. Jenna said you told her you have new leads on the Donovan case. Could you speak to me about those?"

"I'd prefer to speak with Damon." I was going to be stubborn about this. I was only here to see him, I didn't really care about giving up the information or lack of information that I had.

He sighed and I heard his frustration ride out on the breath. He took a moment to close his eyes and think. "I'm not sure what else to say, Ms. Gilbert. We could really use any leads you may have. We'd really appreciate any and all information."

"And I'd be happy to spill….to Damon."

I stopped spinning and faced Stefan. He was glaring up at me with his jaw tensed harshly. I narrowed my eyes and stared back.

"Damon. Is. Busy," Stefan repeated with barely parted lips. I could see his aggravation building just beneath the surface.

"Did you even call him?"

"I don't need to call him, I know he's busy."

"How do you know that?" I knew I sounded like a child and I didn't care.

"Because we just do, Ms. Gilbert." Stefan looked away from me and down at the file on the table. Once again he was focusing his thoughts elsewhere.

"Well, I only feel comfortable speaking to him," I responded definitely as I leaned back in my chair.

The sudden _bang!_ from the impact of his palms on the table and his figure abruptly towering over me made me jump and gasp. "Ms. Gilbert, you _will_ tell me what you know and you _will _tell me _now_, whether or not Damon is here, or I will have you arrested and trust me you won't fare well in prison," he spat through clenched teeth. His eyes were nearly black from anger and his breaths were heavy.

My confrontational wall had immediately fallen under his outburst and I knew it was time to leave. Slowly, I lifted to my feet. "I think that's all for today, Detective," I muttered under my breath before turning to head toward the door.

I heard his heavy footsteps before I felt his arm grab my shoulder and push me against the wall forcefully. His strong hands gripped my upper arms and he lifted me slightly. "What. Do. You. Know?" he shouted at me and I cringed back into the wall, a quiet whimper escaping me. Flashes of Tyler's manic face entered my mind and terror washed over me.

I heard shouting outside the interrogation room and the door flew open.

"Get off her, Stefan!" I heard _his_ voice and relief slammed into me, yet I dared not move.

Stefan's hands released my arms and when I opened my eyes, Damon and two other uniformed police officers were pulling him back. Stefan's hands were held palms up and his head was hung low, showing he was backing off.

"Take him to fucking counseling, _now,_" Damon instructed the officers. "Stefan, no more bullshit about how you don't need to go. The option is being removed from you."

Stefan simply nodded and allowed the officers to escort him out of the room. As soon as he was gone, the tense energy in the room dispersed and I sagged down to the floor, my body trembling slightly.

Damon was immediately by my side.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked softly as one of his hands ran gently through my hair.

I nodded and looked up at him. "I'm fine." As his eyes met mine, my whole plan of doing all of this just to see him seemed ridiculous. His blue eyes were cloudy and slightly red from lack of sleep and deep dark circles were etched beneath them. His face looked tired and his hair and clothes were in utter disarray. "Are you okay?" I whispered back.

He sighed and moved to sit beside me, his back against the wall as well. He tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling. "I'm exhausted," he finally answered.

"Because of the case?" I questioned.

He nodded. "It's getting the better of me, Elena. We are so fucking stuck. And, look, I'm sorry about Stefan. It's driving him absolutely insane. He hasn't slept in a week, probably hasn't eaten in a day or two. He's pounding those files as hard as I am looking for…something, but we're coming up dry."

I bit down on my lower lip and looked down at my lap. Despite Stefan's frustration with his work, I didn't think him lashing out was helping anything.

Suddenly Damon lurched forward slightly and turned to look at me, his brow deeply furrowed. "Wait, Elena, why are you here?"

Apparently it had just dawned on Damon that I was at the police station. He really must've been tired. "I came to talk to you."

"About?"

"Mason and Richard Lockwood came and spoke to me yesterday."

I wasn't prepared for the rage that suddenly burst out of Damon as he jumped to his feet and yelled, "What? How the hell did they get to you? Why weren't you being watched? I fucking told them! I. Fucking. Told. Them!" His hands were in his hair and his icy eyes were dark.

I scrambled to my feet and took a few steps to the corner of the room. "Damon!" I shouted. "Calm the fuck down!" I was tired of people blowing up at me.

He closed his eyes and paced the small amount of floor space. "Tell me everything, Elena. Now."

Unlike before with Stefan, the words flowed from my mouth freely and quickly and without restraint. "Caroline and I were swinging outside when they pulled up. They told me they were being set up, that they didn't kill Vicki. I told them that Tyler had come after me because I gave their names, but they denied Tyler even knowing they were suspects. They think he was talking about someone else."

"Like who?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I have no idea. But they think I know. They asked me to think back on the week before you took me to the rehab facility."

"And have you?"

I looked down at the floor and a blush crept up to my cheeks. "I can't really remember that week," I responded softly. "I was too messed up."

He was quiet for a moment before walking over to the seat Stefan had once occupied and sat down. "Why were you alone outside?" he asked in a much more calm tone, though his eyes were still cast away from me.

"I had been doing good," I answered honestly. "Caroline and I got permission to go outside and enjoy the nice day."

"And no one was watching you?"

I shook my head and walked back to my seat. "They didn't need to, Damon. They knew Caroline and I weren't going to try anything. They trusted us."

He closed his eyes again. "I don't get how people can get to you so easily in that place."

I smiled slightly. "It's not a prison, Damon. It's just a rehab facility. People get visitors all the time; you know that. I mean, I don't, but then again I'm a special case. Jenna told me most of the residents are willingly there and can leave whenever they choose to."

He nodded but didn't seem to really be listening to me. His forehead was wrinkled in thought and the muscles in his jaw were tensing and relaxing repeatedly. Finally he spoke again. "We had to release both Lockwood men. There wasn't enough evidence to convict either man, but they're still suspects."

"You don't believe they didn't do it?" I asked.

He let out a jagged breath. "I don't know what to believe because the evidence just isn't there. We haven't been able to find shit. But I don't like that they're out on the street. I would arrest them if I could, but I don't have anything on them." He ran a hand over his face and up into his hair and as his hair pulled back, I could see how aged his face appeared.

He was working himself to death.

Sorrow hit me and I was surprised to find I wanted to take his burden away.

"I think I could help you with that," I found myself saying despite the screeching junkie in my mind berating me.

His eyes met mine. "What do you mean?"

With a deep inhale, I decided to come clean…quite literally. "They brought me heroin."

His eyes widened and he sat up a bit from the table. "Elena…you…you didn't…" he started slowly. His eyes were immediately pained.

Quickly I shook my head. "No, I didn't. They're at the facility, in my room, in the dresser. I didn't use them."

The relief he felt was obvious as he slouched back into his seat. I startled a little when he started to chuckle. "Thank god," he sighed. He looked up at me with a smile and my breath caught in my throat.

He was astonishing.

I suddenly remembered why I came here in the first place.

I leaned forward against the table and lowered my voice. "Hey… Damon… um… do you have an office?"

His brow furrowed at the sudden change of topic. "What?"

I bit down on my lower lip and thought of how to phrase what I was trying to say. "I… have more information that I'd like to give you… but I need it to be entirely in confidence. Unrecorded by both tape recorders or video cameras," I said and tilted my head toward the blinking red light coming from a video camera in the corner of the room.

He nodded and stood. "Yeah, yeah, sure. No problem. Come with me." He walked around the table and I followed him out of the room.

As we walked through the station, I glanced into a large open room and my eyes met with Stefan's. He was sitting in a chair outside of an office and by the expression on his face, he was dreading whoever or whatever was inside. His eyes narrowed and glared at me and I immediately broke the contact, moving my eyes down to the floor. He was definitely angry with me.

Damon led me up a flight of stairs and down another hallway before we finally reached a wooden door. The official plaque on the outside of it read 'Detective Damon Salvatore.' He unlocked the doorknob and walked me inside.

The office wasn't huge, but it wasn't exactly small. A fairly large desk sat in the middle of the room and was completely covered by files and papers. Two bookshelves stood behind the desk and were crammed with thick, collegiate-looking textbooks. Two leather chairs were placed in front of the office desk.

He walked around the desk and sat down, mindlessly picking up files and straightening them before sitting them on another section of the desk. "Have a seat, Elena," he offered and I shook my head slightly, my nerves suddenly feeling fidgety. He lowered the papers he was organizing in confusion and looked up at me. "Um… okay. What further information do you have for me?"

I bit down on my lower lip and slowly walked around to his side of the desk. "I've… well, I've been thinking about that kiss," I answered quietly.

His eyes fell from mine. "Oh," was all he said. I knew he didn't expect our conversation to go down this path and I felt bad for catching him off guard. I took another step forward. "What about it?" he pressed.

With a deep inhale to steady myself, I leaned down and met his lips with my own.

His response was immediate.

His hands lifted into my hair and he pulled me down closer to him. To make it easier, I twisted and sat down in his lap, tilting my head for better access. His lips were exactly as I remembered. Soft, yet firm. Warm and so tempting. I had to taste them.

I opened my mouth and dragged my tongue across his lower lip. His body reacted and his lips parted, allowing me entrance. I met his tongue with my own and had to suppress a moan.

Delicious.

Our tongues moved together as we tasted each other and my skin prickled with goose bumps.

He was perfect.

His body against mine was melting me to my core and I felt myself getting lost in his kiss.

Out of nowhere, Damon jumped up and I slipped down into the floor with a thud. My mouth hung open and I stared up at him in shock. What. The. Hell. Was. That?

"Fuck!" he exclaimed as he backed away from me, his hands in his hair again. "Elena, I'm sorry. Shit." He turned around and I stood up. "We can't do this," he said to himself. He turned back to me and I could see the war behind his eyes. "We can't do this," he repeated.

"Why not?" I nearly begged. My breathing was still escalated and I could still taste him on my tongue. I wasn't finished yet.

"Because we just can't, Elena. You're still working on progressing and I'm so mentally messed up by this case. It just wouldn't be right."

Sparks ignited inside of my body and anger littered my thoughts. I was so tired of people controlling me and taking things away from me. I had a perfectly good bag of heroin at the facility that I could've shot up with but I did the right damn thing by telling someone about it. Shouldn't I be rewarded for that? Shouldn't I find relief some-fucking-where?

I deserved this.

I was going to have this.

I had been committed to getting high on a daily basis for over a year. When I set my mind to something, I made it happen.

I took a step toward Damon, my eyes locked steadily with his, and I lifted my shirt up over my and head and let it fall to the floor. Damon's eyes flickered away from mine briefly to scan my nearly naked torso. When he looked back up I could see him struggling to maintain his stance on us not doing this.

I reached behind my back and with another step closer, I unclasped my bra and let it slide down my arms to join my shirt on the floor.

Damon's mouth popped open slightly and he unconsciously stepped away from me and into the wall. His eyes moved down to my bare breasts and I could see his resolve wavering.

I bent down and pushed my capris from my hips, removing them and my flip-flops simultaneously. When I stood by up, dressed in only my lace panties, I saw the first signs of my victory in Damon's all too willing eyes.

Seductively, I stalked toward my prey, my hips swinging with each step.

When I had reached him, I lifted a hand and ran my fingers across the stubble growing on his amazingly chiseled jaw line. This. Was. Mine.

I looked up at him from underneath my dark lashes, licked my lips, and whispered, "_Please_?"

* * *

**A/N:** So, are we glad she said something about the drugs? Do we think Damon could resist _that_? Do we want him to? Lol.

I've been really entertained with the reviews thus far about everyone's opinions on whether or not the Lockwood men are innocent.

I've really just been entertained with the reviews in general. I love reading the thoughts you guys have. Keep them coming. And I try to respond to as many as I possibly can, but there tends to not be enough time to get to everyones.

Also, I'm considering changing up my posting pattern. I'm currently reading a story by one of my favorite fanfic authors, Savage7289, and she's writing a story where she's updates frequently - like three to four times a day - but they're really short chapter. I've found that I actually enjoy this style much more than waiting a week or two for a kind of lengthy chapter. Which would you guys like to see? Review and let me know.

See you guys next chapter!

Oh! Also! Forgot about this. One of my super amazing readers, NykkiLeighVampireHeart, wrote a perfectly delicious smutty outtake of the scene where Damon helps Elena decorate her room. You guys should all go read it and review. She titled it, "All the Tension, Wait for the Call." So go search her penname and click the story and READ! I heart you, NykkiLeighVampireHeart! *Muah!*


	11. Relief

His eyes narrowed and a deep groan escaped him as he rolled his head on his shoulders. "Please? Oh my god, Elena, don't do this to me."

I batted my lashes again and moved to press my body against his. I felt every muscle in his body stiffen...and I mean every muscle. I was going to get my way. For the first time in weeks, I was making something happen.

I knew that what I was doing was wrong. It didn't take any time at all for my mind to lose any ideas of progress and growth but instead revert to this primal thought process of want and take.

He was not going to deny me.

I was taking this, controlling the situation. The sensation made me feel as I did when I scored and shot up.

I reached between us and slipped two fingers into the top of his pants. "Please, Detective?" I nearly purred.

"Fuck," he moaned and let his head fall back against the wall. "I'm begging you, Elena. You've gotta stop. You've gotta put your clothes back on." I could feel his chest raising and falling rapidly against my own as his breathing increased. His eyes were trained away from mine as he attempted to stay firm on his decision.

I was tired of playing this game. We both knew where we'd end up anyway... on his desk... Or in the chair... Or on the fucking floor. Made no difference to me.

Without further instruction from him, I unbuttoned his jeans and slid down the zipper. Quickly I dropped to my knees, jerking down his pants and boxers as I went. As his erection bounced free of the clothes, I heard him gasp and he looked down at me. I ran my tongue over my swollen lips and leaned forward, anxious to taste him.

Before I could stop him, he hastily began backing away from me, running into his bookshelves and knocking loose books off, awkwardly attempting to tug his pants back up. "No, no, no, Elena. No," he said firmly with a shake of his head. "We are not doing this." His pants slid up around his hips but he seemed to be having difficulty getting them buttoned again with shaking hands.

My mind was whirling. How could he stop me? His dick was less than an inch from my lips and he stopped me? I could be sucking him off now and he stopped me?

"Damon, I thought you liked me," I whispered, my ego obviously bruised.

He stopped trying to button the pants and looked up at me, his eyes widening. Quickly he walked back to where I was pathetically sitting in his office floor, and lowered to his knees to join me. His eyes were soft and held all the pain I felt. "God, yes, I do, Elena." He lifted a hand to my cheek and rubbed his thumb along the bone. "And you have no idea how hard it is to not do this, but it just wouldn't be right."

"Why?"

"Neither of us is in a position where this would be healthy."

I held his gaze and narrowed my eyes. He didn't want to do this because it wouldn't be healthy? For who? I had always heard that sex was one of the healthiest things a person could do for their body physically. Mentally… well, who cares about that? This was what I wanted and I _was_ going to get it. "I'm not looking for healthy, Damon," I admitted brazenly. "I just want to be fucked."

He opened his mouth to respond but before a sound could escape, I lurched forward and covered his mouth with my own, wrapping my hands up into his silky hair and holding him against me.

I shoved my tongue into his mouth and moved mine against his, enjoying the salty-sweet taste of him. He immediately began kissing back, his will faltering immensely. The kiss was powerful and desperate with lips and tongues and teeth slamming together.

Deciding to abuse his newfound compliance, I shoved one hand down between us again, slid it into his unbuttoned pants, and grabbed his hardened member firmly.

I. Was. _Not_ letting go.

He groaned into my mouth and sucked in a sharp inhale through his nose. One of his hands shot up to the wrist holding him, but he didn't attempt to pull me out.

I was winning.

Gently I began rolling my thumb around the soft tip of him, spreading around his precum and creating a slick surface. He mumbled against my mouth but I couldn't decipher the words, and I didn't care to. I wrapped my fingers around him and moved lower, then back up. The movements were uncomfortable and awkward due to my hand being trapped inside his jeans so I removed my other hand from his hair and unzipped the fabric. Once the pants were pushed partly off of his hips, I was able to free his erection again and make work of stroking him. "_Fuck,"_ he moaned as he sucked my lower lip into his mouth. I could feel his grasp on my arm relaxing slowly and I smiled into his kisses.

With my unoccupied hand, I grabbed his hand, removed it from my arm, and brought it up to my bare breast.

As soon as his palm was placed against my skin, the nipple pebbled and hardened and my heartbeat picked up in pace.

He didn't need further help from me and began massaging the rounded flesh, pulling his fingers back until his thumb and index finger were tweaking the perky nipple. Now it was my turn to moan. To express my satisfaction, I wrapped my hand softly yet firmly around him and tugged. His hips bucked in response.

The act seemed to break any resolve he may had have left and his lips trailed away from my lips and across my jaw and to my throat. He licked and sucked at the skin as he went and the feel shot straight between my legs. "Mmm,_ Damon_," I whispered into the side of his neck.

I needed him.

Now.

I pulled back from his lips and with as much force as I could muster, I pushed him back to the floor until he was on his back and I stood up. His eyes were confused as he looked at me, but as I began to slip out of my panties, his expression showed he understood.

I walked to stand over him and lowered my hips to hover above his. The tip of his cock gently grazed my aching flesh and I roughly bit down on my lower lip.

His head fell back against the floor, his eyes closing. "We shouldn't," he muttered again, but the strength behind the statement was no longer there.

With a deep breath, I impaled myself on him.

Brief pain coursed through me as he filled me entirely, more than I'd ever been filled before, and I stretched to accommodate him. As I exhaled, an involuntary moan escaped me.

"Fuck," he groaned again into the air.

I closed my eyes and took several seconds to enjoy the feel of him inside of me. Then slowly, I began lifting myself with my knees, setting a pace that had us both aching for more friction and heat.

I pursed my lips tightly and moaned.

This felt right. This felt good. This is what I wanted and this was what I was getting.

I reached down and pushed up his shirt to the top of his chest.

I placed my palms flat against his abdomen and looked down at him.

God this man was perfect. How had I never noticed? For more than a year he was standing in front of me, yet this was the first time I'd attempted to jump his bones. Why?

His abs were chiseled and sculpted in a way I didn't think possible. I could see the distinct outline of each muscle all the way down to the hip bones that arched to form a pathway down to the part of his body currently buried within me.

He. Was. So. Fucking. Sexy.

The thought sparked a fire within me and I had the most intense urge to fucking ride him.

So I did.

With the strength of my knees I picked up speed and lifted up and slid down him repeatedly and quickly. With every downward movement, I would pause at the base of him to rock my hips and satisfy the craving for friction that my clit was expressing.

"Ugh... Ugh... Oh god... Mmm," I moaned each time he filled me.

Both of his hands moved up my chest to my bouncing breasts and he attended them, kneading and caressing firmly. Each time he pinched a nipple, I'd moan louder and speed up my hips.

Suddenly he lifted to sit up and his shirt slid down back down his body. He took a nipple into his mouth and sucked hard. A tremble ran through me. "Oh god, Damon!" My arms slid around his neck and I held him close.

His hands rested on my hips and he began to guide me up and down him, groaning against my chest.

Each time his body pressed into the sensitive bundle of nerves between my legs, a knot began to form within my stomach and tighten.

His teeth lightly nipped at a nipple and I cried out and slammed back down on him again.

A rippling effect began to vibrate inside of me and I knew my orgasm was close. "Yes... Fuck yes..."

He leaned away from my breast and his breathing was heavy. He placed his forehead on the smooth surface of my chest between my breasts. "I'm close, babe... So close..." he whispered. "You're so fucking hot, Elena," he echoed the sentiments I had for him earlier.

I could feel myself getting closer and I cried out with each movement, my fingernails digging into his back. "Ugh…yes…" I heard myself expressing.

"_Shit_... Just like that, baby…" he sighed.

His words sent me over the edge and I climaxed. With a scream, my vision was muddied with black and white spots and a wave of pleasure crashed into me. The muscles of my inner walls began to contract repeatedly around his cock and my clit twitched wildly as I forced my body to keep riding up and down him. "Yes! Mmmm, fucking yes! Damon! Damon, god!" I threw my head back, my hair swishing against my ass, and basked in the ecstasy.

"I feel you coming on me," he groaned. "Just let go, baby." His words thrilled me and kept my sensitive body coming.

Without warning and in mid-bliss, he flipped us over and I gasped as I landed hard on my back. The movement surprisingly intensified my orgasm, sending more pleasurable shots through my limbs.

Damon propped himself up with his hands on either side of my head and he began ramming himself into me, grunting with each thrust. I could feel the air around him charge with a different energy and the change was sudden and drastic. I looked up to his face and his eyes stared down at me, dark and filled with lust. No more did I see the tentative man attempting to save my honor or whatever bullshit that was, but a man completely accepting of the pleasure being brought to him... and a man that wanted more.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and gave him free reign of my body. This was what I wanted from him. I wanted him to break loose and _want_ me like I needed him. I wanted him to tear me apart and find paradise in my body.

With furious movements, he pounded into me, causing my back to burn against the carpet. The muscles in his jaw were clenched taught and deep growls would rumble at the base of his throat. His breathing was heavy through his nose and his hair was damp with sweat. He lifted a hand and grabbed my thigh, holding me tightly against his hip and keeping me in place. I could feel his fingers digging in and knew it was going to leave a bruise. Thrust after infuriating thrust, I whimpered as he inched his way closer to the same release I had received earlier.

I loved every second of it.

With several more jerky movements, warmth began to spread inside of me as he reached the edge. His mouth dropped open and a stream of curses poured from his lips.

His eyes never left mine.

The moment was perfect.

* * *

**A/N**: So, there were mixed reviews after the last chapter from people about if they wanted this to happen or not, but for those who didn't want it to happen, know there are _always_ consequences for their actions. Lol

What did you guys think? Should they have gotten down like that or waited? Has she triggered something in Damon? Should she have not taken him down this road?

For those who are interested in how EyeCon went, check out my blog: writingtoberemembered(DOT)blogspot(DOT)com . I posted the pictures I got with Ian Somerhalder, Paul Wesley, Michael Trevino, and Steven McQueen. :D

Okay, and on a king of unrelated to the story topic, I wanted to ask you guys a question. Do you let your friends know that you read fanfics? I ask this because I have never told anyone in my personal life who I actually know (other than my fiancé) that I write fanfic stuff. Like, I'm super proud of the things I've written and the readers I've acquired along the way, I just don't think my friends, even like my best friends, would really understand. None of my friends are into vampires or like any of the vampire shows. They know I do, but they don't. Mostly because they think that because we're all around 21-22 that we should be into this stuff. And I don't know how they would react to knowing I write smutty type stuff. I'm probably one of the most demure people in real life so no one would expect me to write things like this. Occasionally I mull over the idea of telling my best friend because I get incredibly excited about how far my reader-base reaches and how many favorites and subscribers I get, but then I trash the idea because I'm just like, she wouldn't get it. So, is that kind of how you guys are or do you just not give a crap who knows you're into fanfics? Lol. How do your friends react if they know? Do you have friends who aren't into vampire type stuff but you still talk to them about it anyway?

Anyway, I just wanted to get y'alls feedback on this type of stuff. Lol.

See you next chapter.

P.S. I'm adding this because many of you seemed to be concerned: Elena is not going to get pregnant from this. Yes, in real life that is a total possibility that if you have unprotected sex (which is dangerous and stupid if you're not in a committed relationship and prepared to deal with the consequences) you can get pregnant the very first time. But for purposes of this fic, she is not getting pregnant. Lol.


	12. Shelter

Damon stood with his back to me, staring out his office window as I pulled the last of my clothing back on. After we had finished there had been no cuddling, no words of love or admiration. Instead, I visibly watched the lustful haze that had overcome Damon seep out of his system and he was hit with the reality of what had just occurred. His dark and eager eyes softened into wide crystal orbs of regret.

My stomach immediately sank.

With that realization, he climbed off of me and stood, pulling his pants up and trying to make himself appear as though he hadn't just gotten laid. Not a word had been spoken so I followed his lead and began dressing.

With my tank top falling down around my torso, I folded my arms to hug myself, uncomfortable with the tenseness suddenly surrounding us. I waited for him to turn back to me, to tell me everything was okay and I was imagining the change in his mood, but after many minutes, it was obvious that wasn't going to happen.

I let out a shuddering breath as I felt my face growing hot with oncoming tears. This was not how I expected this to end. Without a word, I wrapped my shaking fingers around the smooth metal doorknob and let myself out.

Halfway down the hallway, a group of uniformed police officers sat around a conference table, inside a room with glass windows and an open door. As I passed, each of their eyes landed on me, smirks on their faces. My pale skin turned an astonishing shade of red as I realized they had heard. I hugged myself tighter and hurried quickly away from the window, feeling more ashamed than I should have about the situation. I decided against the stairs, knowing that I needed a moment to compose myself, and instead chose to use the elevator.

As the metal doors closed in front of me, I backed against the smooth metal wall and allowed the tears to spill over.

What was happening? I just had one of the best moments of my life yet I was left with the feeling of humiliation. Who the fuck cares if a group of men heard me having my brains fucked out? It was incredible. Damon and I were both consenting adults. There was nothing wrong with what we had just done.

So why did I feel so awful?

It was because of the look in his eyes once it was over. He hadn't enjoyed it. He hadn't enjoyed me. He was wishing he could take it back, but he couldn't. He had regretted me.

I wasn't good enough for him.

The thought struck me hard and knocked the breath out of my lungs. I had always danced around the idea, what with me being a drug addict and he being a prominent member of society. But I had never fully believed the thought because he was always there to make me feel differently. I simply accounted the idea to my deteriorating and paranoid mind.

But here was the proof. I couldn't deny it anymore. I simply wasn't enough for him. I couldn't even give him good sex.

What the hell was I good for, then?

Nothing.

The elevator doors opened and I stood up straight, running my arm across my face to wipe away the tears. As I looked up, my eyes first landed on the double doors of the exit and suddenly all I could focus on was them. My heart clenched with a new need. I needed to get out of here. I needed to leave and go somewhere, somewhere that wouldn't remind me of him. That included the facility.

Without sparing time to look around or really consider the consequences of my new plan, I bolted for the door, my adrenaline shooting high. The _flip flip flip _of my shoes sounded extraordinarily loud in my ears as I ran and I was sure the noise was alerting everyone around me to what was happening. I made it to the door and pressed down the bar to open it. The wind whipped my hair around my face as the door swung open and I ran outside.

My mind was whirling with surprise that I had made it that far. No one yelled my name in the lobby of the station. No heavy footsteps followed my own. No one tackled me. I was, for the first time in a long time, going unnoticed.

I sprinted into the parking lot and stopped, suddenly aware of the fact that I had nowhere to go. I placed my hands on my hips as I breathed heavily, my skin crawling from the rush of adrenaline. Nearby, I heard the grumble of an approaching bus and I turned in that direction. As I did so, my name finally being called reached my ears.

My head jerked up toward the noise, my arms falling to my side as I prepared to run again. Once again I heard the wind carry my name and my eyes scanned the building.

I could feel his stare before I met his eyes. Damon was still in his office, his hand holding open his window on the second floor. He was shaking his head and pointing a finger at me, his eyes pleading. "Stay there!" he yelled firmly. He disappeared from the window and my eyes dropped to the front double doors, expecting him to magically appear there without use of stairs. Instead, I was met the cold eyes of his brother.

Stefan stood at the door, the muscles in his jaw drawn tightly. He held my stare with severity and I was suddenly hit with a wave of déjà vu that sent me staggering back.

His eyes…I'd seen them before.

My brow furrowed in confusion as I tried to remember when Stefan suddenly whipped around. I could see Damon running behind him, yelling something to his brother.

The whir of bus doors opening caught my attention and I snapped out of my stupor. The bus had just stopped at the corner down the road, and if I sprinted, I could make it. My feet pounded against the pavement as I took off. As I neared the bus, I quickly glanced behind me and saw both Salvatore brothers running after me in the distance, but neither was close enough to stop me.

I hurried up the black steps of the bus and swung around the metal bar and into a seat. My leg bounced up and down as I watched the detectives grow closer through the window.

The driver, an elderly man with deep-set brown eyes and bushy eyebrows turned to me. "You gonna' pay?" he asked sharply.

"Please, just go," I begged pathetically. I didn't have any money.

The man narrowed his eyes, gave me a once-over, then turned to see the men running toward the bus.

Much to my relief, he turned back in his seat and the double doors closed just as Stefan and Damon approached. The driver acted as though he was deaf when they banged their hands on the door, yelling at him to open it. The grinding gears of the bus started up and I leaned back in my seat, staring straight ahead, as we pulled away from the curb.

I had never really thought much about how Damon and Stefan were able to wear regular clothes as detectives, but right in that moment, I was so appreciative of the fact they weren't in uniforms. If they had been, there's no way the driver would have let me get away. He'll probably be sorry enough when he eventually finds out they were cops.

I sat up and turned around to look at the station. Neither Damon nor Stefan was at the curb anymore, probably running for their vehicles to follow us. My eyes landed on two other adults sitting on the bus behind me, both staring at me with open curiosity. I averted my eyes and slid back down in my seat.

The bus drove for only a few minutes, turning down the road that went straight downtown. I knew the area well; it was where I often got high. We pulled up at another bus stop and the vehicle sighed as the doors were open. The driver turned to look at me, his eyes apologetic. "Darlin', this is where you've gotta get off. I ain't allowed to let ya' stay without payin' the toll."

I bit down on my lower lip and nodded. I completely understood. Nothing in life was free.

As I stepped down onto the sidewalk, I turned and thanked him. He simply nodded in response, looked around for other passengers, then started the bus forward again. I walked away from the road until I was hidden by a familiar alleyway. I pressed my back against the cold brick wall and watched the bus drive away. Not long after, two black, undercover SUV's barreled down the road after it, their blue lights flickering on the dash behind the windshield. Instinctively, I moved farther into the dark alley.

As soon as that bus pulled over, he would tell them where he dropped me off and they'd come back. My heart hammered hard in my chest and I looked around me. I had definitely been here in this alley before. It wasn't the same one that Damon had caught me in that dreadful night, but it wasn't far from it. On my right side was the building that held the offices of Mystic Falls most notable – sleazy – lawyer. To the right was some corporate building that did who knows what.

I racked my brain for somewhere I could go, which was not an easy task. Now that I was clean, I realized just how much the drugs messed with my brain. I was surprised I could even remember my own name.

Out of habit, the first place I thought of was the Lockwood home. I knew exactly how to get there from here – I could probably make it to that house even if I was dropped in the middle of a desert – but I wasn't so sure what I'd find when I got there. I knew the Lockwood brothers were currently in hiding, so who would be occupying their squalid home? Probably not anyone I'd like to hang out with. And Damon would think to go looking there.

I didn't have any friends to call up. After I met my ex-boyfriend/drug dealer, he did a good job at secluding me from my old friends. He had jealous tendencies that would get the best of him and he'd beg me to stay with him.

Suddenly a face I hadn't seen in probably ten years flashed before my eyes. Alaric. My Uncle Ric. He wasn't really my uncle, but rather my dad's best friend. When that…stuff happened to my family, I stayed with him for a little while before other family members began passing me back and forth. He wanted me to stay there with him and have a secure home, but he wasn't technically family so there was nothing he could legally do. I remember, though, that the day I was taken from him for good, he told me I could always come calling if I needed him.

It was time to see if that offer still stood.

...

It took me three hours before I was standing in front of the home owned by Ric. I had vaguely remembered where it was, only recalling specific landmarks that brought me near there.

My brow furrowed as I stared at it. I recognized the grand size of the colonial home, but everything else about it had changed. The white siding had faded drastically and a few of the green shutters were missing their slats. The old whicker rocking chairs were still sitting on the front porch, yet now they were covered in leaves and dirt and they were creaking eerily with the wind. The once magnificent oak tree in the front yard had been chopped down to a stump. The grass was unkempt and the mailbox at the end of the driveway tilted at an awkward angle. I didn't recognize the car parked next to the home.

It suddenly dawned on me; he doesn't live here anymore.

How stupid was I to think that the man would still be here after ten years? There was never anything tying him to Mystic Falls. The only family he had here was my family and I was the only one of us left. After I was taken away, why should he have stayed? I wasn't anything to him. He was probably glad to have gotten rid of me.

A strange knot tugged in my stomach and tears pooled along my lashes.

I had been hoping to see him. To see a familiar face. To see a face that tied me directly to my past. But just like everything else I hope for, I was met with disappointment.

I looked down at the ground, my fingers pulling idly at loose threads on the hem of my tank top, as I tried to come up with another plan. I couldn't just stand outside this house all day and hope for something that just wasn't. Damon and Stefan were still out there searching for me, and if I knew Damon well enough, every police officer on the squad was alerted to my disappearance by now.

I thought about the homeless shelter near downtown. I had stayed there only once. That night I was sick with withdrawals and a middle-aged transient man thought he could take advantage of my situation. Luckily another homeless guy near my age saw him grab me and ended up beating the shit out of him. Of course he had wanted me to pay him for his efforts after, so I just left and went to the Lockwood home.

I shook my head. The shelter wasn't an option. They stay up to date on who is and is not wanted by the police. They would turn you over in a heartbeat just to free up another bed.

"Can I help you?" a female voice suddenly said beside me and I startled, my head snapping up toward the voice.

A woman with raven black hair and bright eyes was gazing at me suspiciously from the yard of Ric's old home.

"Uh, I uh…no," I stammered, shaking my head.

"You've been out here for a while," she said slowly. "Are you lost?"

I dropped my hands to my side. "I was looking for someone that I thought lived here," I answered honestly. "But I can see they don't, so…" I looked back down at the ground and suddenly felt self-conscious and exposed. The way the woman was looking at me was like I was crazy. And I probably was just a little bit.

"Well, maybe I can help you?" she asked. "I know pretty much everyone on this block."

"No, I know he lived here," I responded quickly, looking back up.

She folded her arms over her chest. "Okay, well, the last person who moved from this home moved away probably… I don't know, twenty years ago. I don't know if that's who you're looking for but I do have his forwarding address."

My brow furrowed. Twenty years ago? But Ric was just living here ten years ago. "Was his name Alaric Saltzman?" I asked.

Her head snapped up a little more and I could see her surprise. "You're looking for Ric?"

"You know him?" I gasped, hopeful that she could tell me where had moved to.

She nodded and looked back to the house then to me. "He's my husband."

...

"Would you like some coke? Or tea?" the woman offered as she led me into the house.

"I would love a coke, thanks," I smiled gently as we walked into the living room. Mentally I was laughing at the statement. I would definitely love some coke, just not the same coke she was suggesting.

I was surprised to find that the interior was significantly more polished than the outside of the home. I wondered why they had let the exterior go so much. A delicate chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling. The beat up furniture of Ric's old bachelor pad had been removed and replaced with a completely leather couch and two rocking chairs. Original paintings adorned the walls as well as a few pictures of the woman and Ric on their wedding day, on a vacation, at a friend's party. However, he didn't look like the Ric I remembered. His eyes were more sallow and his smile not as bright.

I stood in front of one of the pictures, my arms wrapped around my torso, and tried to place the sorrow I saw there. I had seen it before.

"Here you are," the woman smiled as she walked back in with two full glasses, one extended toward me.

I took it and immediately drank a large gulp of it. My nerves were still rattled from the day's event and caffeine was sure to take my mind off of it.

"So, I never caught your name," she said as she lifted her own drink to her lips.

"Oh, sorry," I tried to smile at her. "I'm Elena."

The woman's eyes grew large and she slowly lowered her drink. "_The _Elena?" she asked me.

"Um…" I didn't know how to respond. "Maybe?"

She sat down her glass on a side table and rushed forward. My body stiffened as she circled her arms around my shoulders in an awkward hug. "Oh my gosh, you poor girl," she cooed into my hair. She backed up and held me at arms length. "I'm Isobel. Ric has told me _so_ much about you and about your family. He talks about you guys all the time."

I suddenly felt sorry for not attempting to visit him sooner. "He does?"

"Absolutely! I feel like I already know you." She pulled me into another hug.

"So, is he here?" I asked as she pulled away once more.

"No, he's at work but he should be here…" she looked down at the watch on her wrist, "…in like thirty minutes during his lunch break." She looked back up at me. "Can you stay that long? He would love to see you, I'm sure."

I nearly laughed. "Um, yeah. I can definitely wait around for him."

...

Isobel and I sat on their couch as we waited for Ric to come home.

"So how long have you guys been married?" I asked.

"Nearly four years now," she smiled and I could tell she was truly happy.

"Are you from Mystic Falls?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm not. I moved here to teach at Mystic Falls University and that's where Ric and I met."

"What do you teach?"

"Literature with a focus in supernatural beings," she grinned. "I know, it's weird, but the stuff fascinates me." I couldn't help but to think that she'd love to meet Caroline. "Anyway, Ric teaches history in the same building," she continued. "He helped me find my way around the university when I first got there and…well, the rest is history."

I nodded slowly. "So why is he at work today and you're not?"

"I didn't have any classes scheduled for today so I decided to stay home and do some research. That's what I was doing when I saw you from my office upstairs."

"I hope I didn't interrupt any huge discoveries," I joked.

She laughed. "No, I'm pretty much stuck as of right now. Anyway..." she sighed, "...what have you been up to?" she asked as she eyed my all white clothes."I know Ric said it's been a long while since he's seen you."

I opened my lips to respond with some sort of lie when the front door saved me. Both Isobel and I jumped to our feet and turned in that direction.

Ric walked in, running a hand over his tired looking face. He had a large messenger bag slung over his shoulder and it appeared to be loaded with textbooks. He rounded the corner and when his eyes landed on me, he froze, his mouth falling open slightly.

"Hi, Uncle Ric," I smiled.

"Elena?" he questioned with obvious shock.

I nodded.

Suddenly the bag fell from his shoulder and he hurried over to me. Unlike the awkward hug with Isobel, I openly accepted his, my own arms wrapping around to his back. He held me tightly for nearly a full minute before back away.

"What are you doing here? Where have you been? How are you?" he asked the questions in a quick stream of words, his eyes shining with joy.

I laughed and decided to answer the first question. "I came to visit." It wasn't necessarily the truth, but we would get to that later.

...

We spent the remainder of the Ric's lunch break with him telling me about all of his recent advances in his job. He had been granted all sorts of funds from the college to do research on some study of his. When he left to go back, he asked if I could hang around until he was off work. I agreed and Isobel asked me if I'd like to take a nap in the guest room while I waited. I guess I looked sort of tired, and I was. I slept until Isobel woke me for dinner. Nothing of importance was discussed over the meal. I had a feeling both Isobel and Ric was tiptoeing around topics that dealt with my personal life once they realized I wasn't freely offering the information. I was grateful.

Later that night, I sat at the kitchen table with a cup of hot chocolate held gingerly in my hands.

"You guys need anything else?" Isobel asked as she handed a similar cup to Ric and placed a plate of chocolate chip cookies in front of me. They smelled delicious and my stomach grumbled despite me having just eaten. I was most excited about them and the drink, though, because I hadn't had chocolate since yesterday and I knew that if I didn't get some soon, I'd be in trouble.

"No, I think we're fine," Ric smiled up at her.

"Well, I guess I'm heading to bed then," she bent down and kissed Ric and I had to look away. The action immediately reminded me of Damon and what happened this morning and how I would obviously never find what they had. I wasn't good enough to find it. When she stood back up, she turned to me. "Elena, it's getting pretty late. Would you like to stay the night here?"

I was actually going to discuss that with Ric later, but it made me feel less intrusive with her offering first. "Sure, if you guys don't mind."

"Not at all, dear. I've got some extra clothes you can put on in the morning since you don't have anything with you. I'll leave them in the guest room."

I smiled. Isobel was such a nice woman. Ric was lucky to have found her.

She exited the kitchen and I turned to Ric. His eyes were narrowed and it seemed he had been staring at me for some time. I looked down at my hot chocolate to get away from his gaze.

"So…" he started slowly.

"So…" I echoed, bringing the cup to my lips and sipping it slowly.

He sighed. "Elena, what's going on?"

I didn't look up. "What do you mean?"

He reached over and placed a hand on my arm. "Don't try to tell me something's not up. I know you too well for that. You've been acting strange all night. I mean, yeah, it's been a while since I've seen you. You've change a lot, but… something's off. You seem really paranoid." He pulled back his hand and his voice softened. "And you look sick. Are you okay?"

I shrugged. "I'm fine."

"What's with the clothes? Did you just get out of a hospital?"

I shook my head to indicate I hadn't.

He let out another breath. "Elena, you know you can trust me. You can tell me what's going on."

"I know," I answered softly and finally looked up at him. "I'm just not ready to."

He nodded a few times to himself before speaking again. "So, can you tell me anything about how you've been? It's been so long since I've heard from you. You used to call and then the calls just…stopped."

I sighed. "I had to move to live with my mom's cousin like six months after I left here. She didn't allow me to use the phone and then I lost your number and then stuff just went downhill from there and…" I trailed off and looked away.

"I tried finding out where you moved to, ya' know?" he told me. "Nobody would tell me anything because that just wasn't information I had access to. I tried for maybe a year and a half before giving up."

I looked up at him, a new sensation tightening in my chest. The information instantly sent my mind whirling. He had tried to find me? Someone had actually wanted me? For so long I felt completely alone, feeling like no one cared about me at all. I just figured that's how it was for me. I wasn't one of those people that others cared about. But someone _had_ actually cared about me? _He_ had _wanted_ to find me? Immediately tears welled in my eyes.

Ric became alarmed and sat down his drink before reaching back over to me. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I didn't know you were looking for me," I said quickly, running a hand over my eyes to catch the tears.

"I knew they wouldn't tell you..." he said slowly, obviously confused as to why I was crying.

"I just thought no one cared. None of my family ever acted like they cared. I was so alone." The words spilled out of me and suddenly I was choking back sobs.

Without another word, Ric got out of his chair and knelt beside me, pulling me into a hug. His embrace was warm and comforting and for the first time in a long time, I let myself cry freely in front of someone without feeling uncomfortable about it. I wept into the crook of his neck for such a long time, but he didn't once complain or try to stop me. He just ran his hand along the back of my head and waited for me to finish.

Finally I pulled away, sniffling and wiping the back of my hand across my nose. "Thank you," I whispered. Unlike other times, I didn't feel stupid for having cried. I just felt relieved.

He stood and pulled his chair next to me. "Are you ready to tell me what's going on now?" he asked softly.

With a deep breath, I nodded, then took several minutes to figure out where to begin.

"After Mom and Dad and Jeremy… ya' know... I just… I couldn't deal very well," I started quietly, a few more tears spilling over onto my cheeks. "None of the relatives I went to knew us very well so they didn't really care about what happened. I never got to talk about it or grieve about it… I just bottled it up. And then when I got older I started…" I swallowed hard, worried Ric would look at me differently if I told him the truth.

"You started what, Elena?" he pressed.

"Drugs," I finally answered, but barely louder than a whisper. "A lot of drugs. Any drug that would help me forget, help me push back the memories." I glanced up at Ric and his face was calm and unchanging. I wondered what he was thinking. "I moved out from where I was living and in with my boyfriend," I continued. "He supplied it."

"Are you on drugs now?" he asked me in a steady voice.

I shook my head. "No, no, I'm not. That's kind of why I'm here, I guess. I've…uh… I've been in rehab… hence the clothes."

He was quiet for a moment. "Are you supposed to be out right now?" he finally asked.

My eyes fell to the floor and I heard him inhale deeply. I guess that was enough of an answer for him.

"Elena, I need you to tell me everything right now."

I nodded and started my story.

I told Ric everything from me getting arrested the first time to becoming a C.I. to scoring bad drugs to Vicki. I told him about how shitty it felt to be going through withdrawals. I told him about my suicide attempt, even showing him the healing scars. I told him about how today was my seventeenth day out of thirty being at the facility.I told him about Tyler and about him coming to me in the facility. I told him I killed him. I told him about Caroline. I told him about all the bad dreams I had of my parents and about how chocolate helps me. I told him about the Lockwood brothers visiting me. I told him about the heroin in my dresser back in my room. I told him about going to the station this morning and meeting with the Salvatore detectives and getting upset and running out.

I did not tell him about sleeping with Damon.

When I was finished, his face seemed so much more aged and weary. He was sitting back in his chair, staring at me with sad eyes.

"I should've found you," he finally mumbled to himself. "I knew…I mean, I figured they weren't getting you the help you would need. If I had found you then…"

I stopped him. "I still would've ended up like this," I said confidently. "There's not anything that would've taken away my dreams. I had to work it out on my own."

He leaned forward and folded his hands on the table. "I miss them, too, ya' know?"

My brow furrowed. "You mean my family."

He nodded. "Ever since they died… I just haven't enjoyed things like I used to. I've given up so many of my old hobbies. I mean, I'm sure you saw the outside of the house... I don't know how Isobel deals with me. I think about them every day... I feel like I should've known something was going on at your house. Your dad and I had made plans to go golfing that day and when he didn't answer… I just didn't do anything about it. I figured something else came up and I went golfing anyway. I just…" his voice cracked and he ran a hand over his face. "I should've stopped by. I knew your dad better than that to think he just wouldn't call me back or give me a reason." He let out a shuddering breath and looked back up at me. I was suddenly reminded of his eyes in the photograph of him and Isobel; the sadness in them. That's where I've seen that look before. I wore those eyes everyday before I started drugs. That was the look of loss.

I didn't respond, not knowing what to say to him, and instead waited for him to say something else. Finally he sighed and sat up. "Are you ready for bed?" he asked softly.

I smiled a half smile and nodded. I was relieved that I didn't have to continue talking about this. It was only bound to make me upset and make me think about things I didn't want to think about. "Yeah… I am pretty tired." I picked up the glass of hot chocolate and downed it, hoping that would be enough to keep the bad dreams away tonight. I knew I had ventured too close to those thoughts anyway and some were sure to come regardless.

Ric took both his cup and mine and sat them in the kitchen sink before we headed to the rooms.

Halfway up the stairs, I saw the back of Isobel step into her room. I looked to Ric in confusion. Where had she been?

Ric shrugged, obviously thinking the same thing, but he didn't bring up the topic.

Once we reached the guest room, he gave me another hug, something I was quickly growing fond of, and said goodnight.

I closed the door behind me and smiled at the pajama clothes sitting on the bed. I was not looking forward to sleeping in the tank top and capris I currently wore and was relieved to find I wouldn't have to.

I decided to take a shower in the guest bathroom before going to sleep.

As the water ran down my tired body, I finally allowed myself to think about that morning. All day long I had been partially pretending it hadn't happened. I instead focused on reconnecting with Ric.

Damon's eyes were the first things to enter my mind.

I pictured them as he tried to say no to me. They were so pleading, so desperate to push me away. That was my first sign I should've stopped.

Then I drew up his lust filled eyes; the way they darkened and made me feel wanted. He had needed it to, if only for a moment.

Then I saw his eyes full of regret. Those eyes that felt like a thousand stabs. Those eyes that denied me. Those eyes that told me I was stupid for thinking he could ever want me.

The day had started so promising. I was doing so well. I had decided to go the police, like I should have. I told Damon about the drugs, like I should have. I had the most amazing sex with the most incredible man. I can't exactly say like I should have, but I wasn't apologetic for it. Then very quickly, it all fell apart.

And the thing that changed it all was his eyes.

Why couldn't he have just been happy? Why couldn't I have fulfilled his wants? Why couldn't I have been good enough?

I then thought back to Stefan. What the hell had been his problem? He had probably caught word of what Damon and I had done and I guess he knew what would happen because of it. He knew Damon would regret it. He had already asked me to stay away from Damon, to not get him mixed up with my issues.

He was also probably still pissed off about having to go to counseling because of me. Well, with the way he acted, he obviously fucking needed it.

But why hadn't he stopped me when he saw me running out? He knew I was there. He was just staring at me. Like he wanted me to run. He could've alerted Jenna who was probably still in the waiting room. He could've called Damon as soon as he saw me. But he did neither. He just watched me.

The water finally began to run cold so I turned it off, dried, and dressed in the pajamas. I left all the thoughts in the bathroom, deciding that if I continued to dwell on them, I'd never get sleep tonight. I took my towel and began scrunching out the water from it so that it would dry as I slept. As I crossed the guest room floor to switch off the light, two semi-loud voices, muffled by the wall, caught my attention.

Slowly I lowered the towel from my head and walked over to the wall, quietly pressing my ear against it. The voices weren't much more clear, but I could still make out what was being said.

"You were eavesdropping? What the hell?" Ric said harshly.

I heard Isobel's voice respond. "That wasn't my intention, Ric, but when I got down there I didn't want to interrupt. Now, either you can call them or I will."

"We're _not_ calling anyone!"

"_Yes_, we are! I will not have a fugitive sleeping in my home!"

My breath caught in my throat.

"Oh, get a grip, Izzy. She's not a fugitive."

"Really? So, she didn't escape from a police station today?"

"I mean, yeah, but –"

"Ric! That's a fugitive!"

"This is a different situation! She wasn't in jail, she was in rehab."

"But she wasn't there voluntarily. She's _supposed_ to be there right now. Police are looking for her!"

"Look, I'll talk to her about it tomorrow, but right now she needs to sleep."

"No," Isobel responded defiantly. "I'm calling the police."

"Izzy, don't," Ric said forcefully.

My eyes grew wide as I heard movement, then Isobel's voice. "Yes, I need to speak with either Detective Stefan or Damon Salvatore."

Shit.

* * *

**A/N:** Uh-oh. I guess Isobel will always end up being a bitch, no matter what plot she's in. Lol.

So, let me know what you thought of the chapter. Are we glad Alaric is here and that she has some sort of family? Are we concerned that she ran away? (Aaaand before some of you readers start getting all technical about her being able to leave a police station, don't. Hahaha. For purposes of my story, things in Mystic Falls are fairly lax. Especially because Elena is not, as Alaric said, a fugitive. She does not have police officers guarding her at all times and she's come to a place of trust with Jenna that they wouldn't expect her to escape. So, take it for what it is. Lol.)

I hope to have a new one chapter up soon, but I'm down to the last two weeks of the semester and unless you guys want to write all my papers for me, it might take me just a little while. :)

Also, for you guys who watched the new TVD episode Thursday: Who else swooned hardcore when "I will _always_ choose you," happened? I was nearing tears, I'm not even gonna' lie. It wasn't even a sad part, but I was soooo overwhelmed with love for him that I wanted to cry. Lol.

See you guys next chapter!


	13. Caught

Get out.

Those were the only words flashing in my mind. I didn't have time to think about it or find alternative options. I simply needed to get away from this house and then I could figure out another plan. Obviously using Ric as a safe haven wasn't going to happen.

I ran over to the bed and pulled the case off of a pillow. Grabbing my white clothes from the facility and the jeans and t-shirt Isobel had set out for me to wear the next day, I shoved them into the pillowcase and threw it over my shoulder. Quickly, I slipped on my flip-flops and opened the door.

I nearly ran into Ric who was standing right outside in the hallway.

He grabbed my shoulders and spun me to face him.

"What are you doing, Elena?" he asked with strict concern.

I looked over his shoulder and saw Isobel standing under the doorjamb of her room, staring at me with wide eyes, a cordless house phone held to her ear. I turned my attention back to him. "I _can't_ go back," I whispered, tugging my shoulders away from his grasp.

He tightened his hold on me and kept me in place. "Elena, if this place is trying to help you, what's wrong with being there?"

There it was. The question always asked to me and the question I never had a concrete answer for. Why won't I accept the help that's being offered? What type of person wouldn't willingly take this help? I was an idiot for not wanting it, right?

But for some reason, my brain didn't think that way. The rehab facility was not a good place for me. It was place where I was forced to be. It was a place that took away my freedoms. It was a place that tried to make me confront my past. It was a place that got into my head. It was a place that took away my drugs.

It was a place that brought me closer to Damon.

Instead of answering his question, I let my eyes fall away from his. "Let me go, Ric," I requested softly.

I could feel his fingers flex minutely against my shoulders. "Elena…" he started quietly.

I didn't look back up to him. "I said let me go," I repeated in a much firmer tone.

With a heavy exhale, his hands unwillingly relaxed and fell to his sides. "Please don't go." His voice was heavy with desperation and I made the mistake of glancing up at him. His eyes were filled with so much distress that my heart tore in two.

I didn't have any words that would comfort him or that would reassure him that I would be okay, so I finally responded with, "I'm sorry."

Isobel stepped out into the hallway, holding the phone out toward me. "Elena, he would like to speak to you."

My eyes fell to the device in her hand and I shook my head. I didn't have time for whoever was on the other end of that line. If it was Damon, he was most likely on his way here now. If it was Stefan…well, he was probably giving me a heads-up to run.

I gripped the pillowcase tighter and hurriedly began down the stairs, skipping every other step to save time. Just as I reached the front door, Ric called my name and I heard his footsteps on the stairs. I didn't want to stop, I didn't want to hear what else he had to say, but something in me held me back and I paused at the door. Sighing, I prepared to get rude with him so that he'd just let me go. Maybe if I hurt his feelings, he would lose all interest in keeping me around and this situation wouldn't be so hard for him.

I turned toward him and before any words could escape me, he scooped me up into a hug so big my feet were lifted from the ground. He held me tight for just a few seconds before sitting me back down and grabbing my hand.

"Be safe," he requested of me with eyes so deeply sincere.

My heart tugged again and I nodded, afraid that if I opened my mouth, I would get caught up in this moment of leaving him again and begin to cry.

As he pulled his hand away, I felt something crumbling beneath my fingers and I looked down. My eyes grew as I saw the bundle of folded bills tucked away in my palm. I looked back up at him, prepared to deny his offer, but he held up a hand to stop me. Then, very calmly, he opened the front door and looked away from me.

…

Leaving the house was much more difficult than I expected. I had only been there for a day, but it felt as if part of my heart had been torn out and left behind.

Ric was the only family I had left and realizing that he actually wanted me immediately drew me closer to him. I wasn't ready for that to end.

I must be cursed, I decided.

Possibly in a previous life I had been remarkably evil. So much so that when I came back, I was damned with the curse of knowing love, yet not being able to keep it.

So far in my life, I had been introduced to amazing people who I cared for and who cared for me. My parents. My brother. Ric. Damon. But then, through some fucked up twist of fate, they were each put in situations that took them away from me.

I wasn't allowed to keep any of them.

I hugged the pillowcase case close to my body as the chilly night air easily cut through the thin blue cotton tank top and matching pajama pants that Isobel had given to me to wear. It also wasn't helping that my hair was still damp from my shower and it hung coldly against my back.

After leaving Ric's home, I instinctively headed toward the part of town I was used to, using the back way to stay undetected. In the past, I had always been comforted by the blank brick walls of hovering buildings. The alleys often felt more like home to me than any other place. Sure, they were dirty and regularly filled with the most despicable people, but they accepted me when no one else would. They didn't care who I was or what I had done or what I did, they had always been open to me. I always felt content there.

Tonight, however, comfort was nowhere to be found in the shadows of the bitter bricks. Every sound made me jump and heightened my paranoia. Every time a car drove past, I would shrink against the wall, expecting Damon to jump out one of the moving vehicles. Every time the wind blew between the high walls, I found myself searching for a person that was whispering to me. Every time a cloud moved to hide the moon, I expected it to be a crazy fiend looming over me, blocking out the light.

After an hour my nerves were shot, my body trembling. For the first time, I needed to actually get off the streets.

I reached into the pillowcase and pulled out the wad of cash Ric had given me. After leaving his house, I told myself that eventually I would give him back his money, determined not to actually use it. My circumstances had changed, however, and if dipping into his generous donation would help, I was prepared to take it.

My chest tightened as I counted out four hundred and thirty-eight dollars. I instantly felt guilty for bringing Ric into this situation. He obviously would've been better off had I never shown up.

I shook my head to dispel the thoughts, making the promise that I would pay back every penny I had borrowed from him.

…

"Welcome to the Sonaw Motel! I'll be right with you!" a groggy male voice yelled from behind a portioned wall after I slammed my palm down on the front desk bell repeatedly. I had been waiting patiently for a good ten minutes, occasionally dinging the bell in hopes of catching someone's attention. When no one did come, I became aggravated and chose the tactic of beating the bell.

A guy with shaggy, dirty-blond hair walked around the corner, looking down at his clothes as he straightened them. He had obviously been asleep. When he finally looked up, my heart stuttered and I took a step back.

His eyes caught mine and the same surprise I felt was displayed on his face. "Elena?"

"Matt?"

His smile lit up his face for a brief moment before his eyes finally roamed my body, then the smile slowly fell.

A blush heated my cheeks and I looked away. I knew I looked ridiculous. My pajamas were slightly dirty from my journey across town. My finally dried hair had dried with knots and tangles. I clung tightly to my pillowcase made purse. I looked, in every sense of the word, homeless.

"It's been forever," he started slowly. "How have you been?"

I shrugged and tried to smile, hoping to downplay my appearance. "I've been fine. And you?"

He looked to the floor and I noticed the black circles swooping beneath his eyes and the shadows deepening his sunken cheeks. It was then that I was reminded of Vicki. His sister.

Matt and I had grown up together. As children, our parents always set us up on play dates. We were inseparable until my family was taken from me. When I finally moved in with my ex-boyfriend and returned to Mystic Falls, Matt and I tried reconnecting, but it just didn't work. At that point I had more in common with his sister than I did with him.

He let out a shaky breath and rubbed at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "I don't know if you've heard about Vic, but –"

"I have," I interrupted. "And I'm really sorry, Matt."

He nodded to himself and dropped his hand. "They still don't know who did it," he told me and I could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

I didn't feel comfortable telling him that I had, in some ways, been helping with the investigation so I remained quiet.

"Anyway, sorry," he shook his head to shake whatever thoughts he was having and he attempted to smile at me. "Are you here for a room?"

I shifted the pillowcase to the other hand and nodded. "Yeah, that's what I was hoping for," I answered with a grin, making an effort to lighten the mood.

Although his smile remained in tact, his eyes were weary as they scanned me again.

"Don't worry, I have money," I informed him quickly, biting back a sigh. Because Vicki was his sister, he probably knew extensive details about my drug habit and also knew that it wasn't cheap. I didn't blame him for being afraid I'd ask for a free room.

The look in his eyes immediately softened. "What? No, no, I wasn't…ya' know," he tried to reassure me, but we both knew that's exactly what he was thinking. "So, what type of room are you looking for?" he asked as he walked over to the computer stationed on the other side of the desk.

"Preferably one with a bed," I joked.

He chuckled quietly and began typing things on the keyboard. "How about…" he pressed a few more keys, "a room with one queen bed? Because I know you I can give the manager's discount of $37.62 plus tax. Total would be $42.30." He looked up to me. "That sound okay?"

"I'm not one to complain, Matt," I laughed as I began digging the money out of the pillowcase.

"You never were," he responded, and the nostalgia was clear in his voice.

I glanced briefly up to find him watching me and my skin heated with another blush. I finally found the roll of cash and tugged out a few bills with my hand still inside the pillowcase, not wanting Matt to see the wad of cash. He would immediately get the wrong idea about me if he saw it. Both Matt and I knew that the only people who carried around bundles of cash in a roll like that was either drug dealers or users.

I laid down $60 on the counter and waited for Matt to count them and deposit them into his register. He then hit a few more keys and the printer next to him whirred to life.

"Here," he began as he grabbed a pen. "I just need you to sign at the X on the bottom while I go and make your room key."

He laid the check-in folio in front of me, sat the pen on it, then crossed over to the key machine that was positioned at the other end of the counter.

I pulled the paper to me and looked down at it. The first thing I noticed was my name printed in bold, black ink in the top left hand corner: **Elena Gilbert**. I hadn't even thought about my name being used to register the room. And because Matt already knew me, he didn't have to ask me for any sort of ID to register me. I closed my eyes for a moment to think. There was no way I could ask Matt to change the name on the registration. He would immediately realize something was going on and question me about it. As much as Matt liked me, I knew he wasn't prepared to lose his job over me.

With a deep sigh, I begrudgingly signed my name next to the X.

Matt returned with a small white envelope containing two hotel keys with the word _Sonaw_ printed across them. He handed them to me, took back the folio, looked over it, then opened a drawer to file it.

"You're in room 108. It's on the first floor. When you leave out of here, take a left and walk straight down. Since they're all outside entrance rooms, you can park directly outside your door. Checkout is at 11 AM. Breakfast is 6:30 to 9:30 and is held in the room directly behind this lobby." I could tell the information he was giving me was memorized and something he repeated often. "If you need to contact the front desk, simply dial zero on the phone in your room. If you need to make local calls, which are free, dial nine and then the number. The ice machines are placed between every ten rooms, so if you took a right out of your room, that's the closest one to you." He finally finished and smiled over at me.

I looked down at my room number scrawled across the key envelope, pleased that I wouldn't be sleeping in an alley tonight. "Thank you," I said aloud, wishing I could I could say those two words to Ric.

"You're welcome," Matt answered.

I looked back up. "So will you be working in the morning?"

"No, but I'll be back at 3 for second shift tomorrow. If you stick around, maybe we can hang out or something?" he asked.

I nodded. Hanging out with Matt seemed like a great idea. It was the most normal thing I could do at this point. It was what I did before my life went to hell. "Sure. See you tomorrow."

"See ya'," he agreed before turning to go back into the back room, most likely sleep again.

…

Five hours later I was hating Matt and his ability to sleep while even at work.

As soon as my head hit the hotel pillow, I drifted to sleep. Thirty minutes later I sprang up in bed, my body shaking and my skin sweating.

The star of my nightmare this time was Jeremy.

_He was three and sitting outside my house in the front yard, playing with the new toy fire truck he had gotten for his birthday. I walked down the steps of the front porch to join him and he looked up at me with the largest smile. _

"_Lena, I's p'ay with fi' tchuck!"he informed me, holding up the truck for me to see. _

"_I see that, Jer. Are you having fun?"_

"_Yes," he answered, turning his attention back to his toy. He began driving it back and forth in the dirt, creating two small tire tracks that deepened with each push and pull. _

_Behind me, the wood on the front porch began to creak beneath the weight of heavy footsteps. I turned my head to see who was there and just as I did, Jeremy began to scream._

_Immediately, I dropped down to my knees beside him. "Jer, what's wrong?" I asked, panicked. _

_His back was to me and his tiny shoulders were heaving from his sobs. _

"_Jeremy, baby, let me see," I insisted, turning him to face me. _

_As his face came into view, my gut wrenched as I made out the splattered blood across it. I looked down and saw that the ladder of the fire truck was lifted in the air and stabbing completely through Jeremy's three-year-old palm. _

"_Lena, huwt!" Jeremy screamed, telling me it hurt._

"_I know, baby, we'll fix it," I replied. My mind was racing with what to do. For some reason, I knew my parents weren't home. I didn't have a cell phone to call for help. I didn't have any medical training. _

_I suddenly remembered the footsteps and I turned back toward the house. The darkened figure of a man loomed behind the shadows of the front porch, just out of reach of the sunlight. I didn't know who he was, but I was hoping he could help. "Help me!" I yelled out to him. "Please!"_

_As I called out, Jeremy's screams got louder, pulling my attention back to him. When I turned around, I saw the fire truck had started to move on its own, dragging Jeremy by the palm with it. He was crying and yelling my name, gripping the grass with his other hand to stop the truck._

_I grabbed his legs and tried pulling him back, but the force of the fire truck was beyond my own. Jeremy shrieked as his body began to stretch from both the truck and me pulling him._

_Suddenly, the air was filled with a sickening crunch and tear and Jeremy's body went slack against the grass, the tug stopping. I looked over him and saw that the fire truck was still driving away, Jeremy's dismembered hand still attached to the ladder. _

After that, sleep completely eluded me. I tossed. I turned. I counted sheep. Nothing worked. Finally I chose to turn on the tiny television to try to drown out the remaining cries of Jeremy echoing in my head. It didn't work and the sounds of his screaming was beginning to drive me crazy.

I walked outside of my room, hoping that some fresh air would help to clear my head.

Slowly, I walked around the parking lot, staring down at my bare feet.

I couldn't live this way.

I couldn't be afraid to sleep because I was worried I'd dream about my family.

At the same time, I couldn't stay awake because my thoughts always drifted in that direction anyway.

I was in a dilemma that I had no idea how to fix.

"Hey!" My head turned toward the sound of a guy walking toward me. "Hey, hey, I know you!" the guy informed with a toothy smile.

My brow kit in confusion. "Um... do you?"

"Yeah, yeah" he nodded. "You're a Lockwood client!"

I rolled my eyes. Now I recognized the guy. He was a dealer.

"Not anymore, man," I said, turning to go back to my room.

"Hey, look, I heard they're missing. Their people have been coming to me. You want some?"

His words made me pause.

This was stupid. He was stupid. I was stupid. I needed to just keep going until I was back in bed.

But I didn't.

"Want some what?" I asked

"You're one of the heroin girls, right? Look, I got some. Twenty bucks, that's all I want."

I turned to look at him.

I wasn't considering this, right? Surely I wasn't considering this.

But I was.

And as Jeremy's wails entered my mind again, my decision was made.

...

The man from the parking lot had kindly provided me with all the essential tools needed; the drugs, a spoon, a lighter, and a needle.

I sat on the bed of my room, staring down at my new stash.

My mind was fighting with itself.

Don't do this.

Do it.

Please, don't.

Please, do.

I knew which thoughts would win as soon as I purchased the drugs. There was no reason in even entertaining the first thoughts.

With shaking fingers, I began melting the substance down into a liquid. I couldn't believe how nervous I was considering the hundreds of times I had repeated this same action.

When it was finally sucked into the tube and the needle was ready, I let out a deep exhale, preparing myself for what was about to happen.

I placed the tip of the needle against the skin of my forearm, right above a pulsing vein.

I steadied my hand, took another breath, then slid it in.

The toxic substance immediately began to burn as it was washed into my body along with the flow of blood.

I pulled out the needle, sat it on the bed, then leaned back against the wall.

It didn't take long for the drug to work its magic. My body was humming with electricity as it coursed through me. Every bad thought, every bad dream, every bad memory I ever had about anything was silenced. My eyelids grew heavy and I allowed them to flutter close, but I didn't fall asleep.

Just like that, every concern I ever had was gone.

It was perfect. I was perfect. I was whole.

...

The high had finally began to subside and I was lying in a state of sheer loopiness when I glanced over at the digital alarm clock on the bedside table. 6:50 AM. I had approximately four more hours before I had to checkout.

I was mulling over the idea of whether or not to use more of Ric's money to stay over at the hotel a second night, and to get a second bag of heroin, when the soft click of an unlocked door handle wiped my mind clean and made every muscle in my body freeze. I stopped breathing and my eyes locked on the round metal doorknob.

The rotating knob made no sound. I only realized it was turning because as it moved, it caught the flickering blue light of the television on its surface.

Not knowing what else to do, I scrambled from the bed and ran into the bathroom, closing the door behind me and locking it with fumbling fingers. I might've been high, but I was alert enough to realize what was happening.

My heart was hammering in my ears and my pulse racing beneath my skin. I spun in circles, searching for an out, only to find that there wasn't so much as a vent in the tiny bathroom.

I couldn't escape.

I backed away from the bathroom door as I heard the door to the room open. The television was either turned off or muted and my sensitive ears were bombarded with the sound of my labored breathing. I heard the covers of the bed being pulled back, then dropped. I heard the fabric of my pillowcase sliding against the table it was sitting on, rummaged through, then sat back down on the table. It definitely sounded like whoever was on the other side of the door was alone.

After the pillowcase was dropped, the room went silent for several minutes. I waited for it to begin again and when it didn't, I slowly stepped over to the door, placing my ear against the wood to check if the person had left.

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

A high-pitched screech escaped me as the door was pounded against. My hands flew to my mouth and I jumped away.

"Elena." It was Damon's voice that finally spoke up.

"Fuck," I cursed under my breath.

Part of me was relieved. Part of me was pissed.

Because it was Damon, I knew I wasn't about to get hurt.

Because it was Damon, I knew I probably wasn't getting out of here alone.

"Elena, open the door," he said in his most firm, I'm-a-police-officer tone.

Just for good measure, I looked around the bathroom again, only to be disappointed that a window hadn't magically appeared.

"Elena," Damon said again. "Open. The. Door."

I ran my hand over my face. I had no idea what to do. I did not want to go back to the rehab facility. I just wanted to be left alone.

Before I could decide on any definitive action, the entire bathroom shook from the force of something ramming into the door. Three seconds passed, then it happened again.

The wood around the handle of the door began to splinter as the third hit came.

Damon was most likely kicking the door open, just like I had seen on TV. Very soon the door would fly open and I'd be screwed…just like the people on TV.

At the most perfect time, an episode of _Tom and Jerry _that I had seen as a child flashed in my mind. In the episode, the dog, Spike, was chasing the cat, Tom, around the house. Tom locked himself in a bedroom and Spike began running full force into the door. During one of his hurtles toward the door, Tom unlocked the door and Spike ran straight into the room past Tom, and Tom slipped out the door.

The idea was genius and I was surprised that my mind on drugs was able to pull up that memory.

I positioned myself to the side of the door and grabbed the lock on the knob. If my timing was correct, the blows came every three seconds.

Damon hit the door for a fourth time and wood-chips rained onto the floor.

I began to count.

_One…_

_Two…_

On the three I unclicked the lock, swung the door open, and just like in the cartoon, Damon stumbled in past me and ran into the tiny sink. I rounded the corner and sprinted for the exit.

I had barely crossed half of the length of the room before I was slammed face first into the mattress with weight pressing into my back.

"Let me go!" I screamed, jerking my body in an effort to get free. I knew there was really no use. I had never been strong enough to get away and that wasn't going to change now, especially with my body being slowed down by the heroin. Something inside of me had to try, though. I couldn't just let them take me without putting up some sort of fight.

Strong hands gripped my shoulders and flipped me over. When I looked up at Damon, my struggle immediately ceased.

His eyes were dark with fury and his breathing was jagged. His jaw was set firmly with clenched teeth. I had never seen this expression on his face and if I was being honest, it scared me.

"Why do you keep doing this?" he asked harshly. "I don't fucking understand, Elena. I try and I try and I fucking try and you just run away? I trusted you! Do you understand how long I've been out looking for you?" He was yelling in my face at this point and there was no stopping him. "I was fucking worried about you! I don't understand what the hell is wrong with you! I'm trying to help you! You need help! Do you see what you're doing to yourself? Why do you keep going back to this shit?" he asked as he picked up the needle and threw it. He let out a frustrated growl as he suddenly pulled me to my feet. He pushed me up against the wall and my hands were grabbed firmly and pulled behind my back. I felt the cold steel of handcuffs behind locked around my wrists.

He turned me around, making sure to keep one hand holding my upper arm firmly, and led me to the table to get the pillowcase of clothes and money, then grabbed the heroin needle. Without another word, he walked me out of the room.

I remained silent, not knowing exactly what to say to him. My mind was still trying to wrap itself around his words. My mind was still trying to cling to my high and pretend this wasn't happening.

On the way to his SUV, I saw Matt standing outside the front office. His mouth was hanging open and his brow was knit in a mixture of confusion and hurt. He was shaking his head in disbelief.

I instantly realized what he must have been thinking. The man who was investigating his sisters' death was arresting me. And I had been one of the few people that was actually around Vicki quite often.

I caught his eyes and began furiously shaking my head. I was not responsible for Vicki's death. This had nothing to do with that.

I hoped he understood my message.


	14. Ultimatums

I sat with my eyes trained down at my lap as I gently massaged the red marks from my wrists. The handcuffs that had detained me were now sitting on top of my bedside table, mocking me with their steely glint.

Damon sat in a metal chair brought in by Jenna on the opposite side of the room near the door. He was leaning forward slightly, his shoulders sagging an inch, a lit cigarette dangling precariously between his lips. Every other minute he would inhale deeply from the stick, remove it from his mouth to exhale a cloud of smoke, then hold it with his lips again.

Whenever I chanced a glance up, I was met with his ice blue eyes staring bullets into my body. I would immediately look back down and shift uncomfortably beneath his gaze.

It felt as if we went on that way for hours, though it was certainly only minutes that passed.

After Damon had picked me up, he drove me directly back to the facility. I was slightly surprised he hadn't simply taken me to jail. Being brought here meant that even if he was mat at me, he wasn't mad enough to give up on me. Something inside of him still beckoned him to help me.

As the strong stench of the cigarette wafted below my nose, I finally decided to speak up.

"You're not allowed to smoke inside the building," I told him matter-of-factly. I looked up at his face and in response to my statement, he took a deep drag, then parted his lips slightly to allow the smoke to billow out. The hardened lines of his face remained unchanging. I blanched and looked away again. I wasn't used to this sort of treatment, but I didn't deny that I deserved it. I wrung my fingers together nervously. My high was nearly gone from the hotel and I could feel my muscles wanting to crash. I was jittery all over and the silence was making it worse. "Say something," I requested quietly.

He took the cigarette between two fingers and tapped it so that the ashes floated down to the pristine white floor. He sucked in another inhale from it before dropping it and stomping it out with the toe of his shoe. As he exhaled, he stood, hooking his thumbs into the pockets of his dark jeans and he walked over to the window.

Outside the sun was just barely above the hills in the distance, casting a pinkish-orange morning glow over the sleepy town of Mystic Falls. Through the window the world outside seemed calm, a stark contrast to the turmoil currently swelling inside of me as I waited for him to speak.

He crossed his arms over his chest and turned toward me, leaning back against the wall. "What do you want me to say?" he finally asked. Nothing about his posture or tone gave away what he might be thinking.

I looked back down at my hands and shrugged. "What's going to happen to me?"

"You currently have 12 days of treatment left. Considering you fucked up everything you worked toward during the first 17, I have a feeling these last days won't amount to shit. But you'll finish out the next week and a half and then Jenna and her team will decide what needs to happen from there."

I nodded, not sure how else to respond. I could sense that this was not the time to try to argue with my punishment.

A quiet tension settled over the room as we returned to silence.

My leg bounced up and down quickly and my fingernails began to drag across the surface of my skin as an insufferable itch started crawling over me. I sighed and clenched my fists tightly, recognizing the signs of my old friend withdrawal. I could feel the tips of my nails digging into my palms as I suppressed the urge to scratch.

Suddenly Damon's shoes came into view and I looked up at him.

"Here," he said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wrapped Dove chocolate. Timidly, I reached up and plucked it from his palm, purposely avoiding contact with his skin. "Jenna said you might need it," he muttered before moving away from me again.

I quickly unwrapped the candy and popped it into my mouth. As the smooth chocolate began to melt against my tongue, I sighed and let my body relax slightly.

Suddenly the sound of the metal chair being dragged across the floor echoed in the room and my head snapped up. Damon stopped nearly two feet from me and sat down. I shifted again where I sat, feeling uneasy with his proximity.

He was silent for several more minutes before finally speaking. "Why'd you run?" he asked bluntly. His eyes were piercing and intense and I felt as if they were setting me on fire.

I swallowed the nearly entirely melted chocolate and thought about how to answer his question. "I didn't want to come back here," I finally answered.

"Don't fuck with me right now, Elena. Tell me the truth." His tone was bitter and my mind automatically switched to the defensive. I never liked to be talked at authoritatively and that wasn't going to change now.

"That wasn't a lie," I bit out at him. And it wasn't. I really hadn't wanted to come back here. But it also wasn't the source of why I ran.

"Why didn't you want to come back here, then?"

"Is this a place you'd like to be?" I asked derisively. "Because you're more than welcome to take my place."

"Things seemed to have been going fine for you, though," he said with a slight shake of his head. "Isn't that why you came to the station in the first place? Because you were progressing in your treatment and you knew giving us that new information and giving up that heroin was the right thing to do?"

I narrowed my eyes slightly. "I came to the station to fuck you. All of that other stuff was just a means to that goal."

His lips pressed into a hard line and he sat back in his chair, his eyes studying me closely.

When several minutes passed and he offered no response, I laughed quietly to myself. "God, Damon, don't make it so obvious that it was bad for you." I stood up and walked past him to the window. "Look, I fucking apologize for putting you in that position, okay? I'm sorry I forced you to have sex that you'd regret. Now, if you're not taking me to jail, I'd really just like you to leave so I can start my recovery, _again_, and get the hell out of this place." I folded my arms and looked out at the trees rustling in the wind. There was no reason for him to stay and question me if he wasn't taking me away.

"Is that what you think?" he asked and I turned to face him. "You think I _regret_ sleeping with you?"

"It's written all over your fucking face. It is now just like it was then."

He abruptly stood and crossed the floor, stopping mere inches from my body. Immediately my heartbeat quickened as I looked up at him, my back pressed against the smooth surface of the window. "You're so fucking stupid," he mumbled as he stared down his nose at me. My brow furrowed and I opened my mouth to respond, but his lips crashing down against my own silenced me.

My breath was instantly taken away as I melted into his kiss. His hands came up and roughly held the sides of my face as he molded our lips together. He stepped forward, trapping me between his body and the window and he tilted my head to deepen the kiss. His silky tongue ran along my lower lip before pushing its way into my mouth and exploring my taste.

When he finally pulled away, his exhales were jagged and his eyes were closed. I attempted to catch my breath as I stared up into his face, shock rendering me speechless.

Slowly, his eyelids opened, revealing the deep blue orbs that I loved…

That I…

That I…

My jaw fell slack as the words slammed into me forcefully while simultaneously caressing every inch of me.

I loved him.

His thumbs began to gently stroke my cheeks as he gazed into my eyes. "Listen to me," he started quietly, "I do _not_ regret _fucking_ you. I swear to god you were the best I've ever had. I regret the timing. You are not capable of coming into this without turning me into your new addiction. I want to be more than that for you, but right now you're not capable of accepting me as more. So whatever's been happening here, between us, has to stop until you're better. Do you understand?"

"What if I never get better?" I whispered.

His eyes closed for a moment and the muscles in his jaw flexed. He let out a deep sigh before looking at me again. "Then this just can't happen."

The words caused an odd pang to shoot in my chest and I dropped my eyes to the floor. If I didn't get better, he wouldn't be with me. I finally had a concrete ultimatum – kick the heroin or lose Damon.

I really wasn't prepared to do either.

…

Later that evening I sat in the corner of my room, my knees pulled to my chest and my arms wrapped around them. I was rocking back and forth as cold sweat rolled lazily down my hot skin.

I had forgotten how bad withdrawals sucked.

Jenna had refused to give me any medicine that would make the process any easier and she had forbidden any of the staff to answer my intercom calls, but instead to send her to my room. She was pissed that I had run from the station. She hadn't said as much, but I could tell by the way she looked at me. She was hurt that I did it. She had trusted me.

Another chill spasmed through me and I clenched my eyes tight, leaning my head back against the wall. A painful moan ripped through my chest and spilled from my lips.

I breathed heavily though my nose, trying my best to concentrate on calming my body.

Suddenly an image of my mother flashed in my mind and I clung to it, hoping it would help me in some way.

She had been a beautiful woman while she was alive. Her dark brown hair had been the exact shade of mine. It was long and straight and I remembered the way it would tickle my nose when she carried me to bed. Her eyes had been a gorgeous color of brown. They were always so warm and comforting and made me feel safe.

Until that night.

That night they had been stripped of all their safety. The last time I made eye contact with her, I was met with desperation, fear and sorrow. Even she couldn't pretend that things were going to be okay. She knew how it was going to end.

I spent the rest of the night vomiting into a trashcan.

…

Day 19

The metal door clicked open and Jenna walked into the room with a tray full of food. She sat it on the bedside table then turned to leave.

"Jenna?" I called her name softly, rolling onto my side on the bed. My voice was raspy from the sore throat I currently had and my body was too tired to sit up.

She propped her hands on her hips and slowly turned toward me. "Yes?"

"I need to talk to Bonnie."

"Why?"

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. I had thought about my course of action the entire night and with every convulsion that tore through my aching body from the withdrawal, I was pushed closer to the decision.

It was time to do this for Ric.

It was time to do this for Matt.

It was time to do this for my brother.

It was time to do this for my parents.

It was time to do this for Damon.

It was time to do this for me.

"I'm ready to talk about what happened to me."

* * *

**A/N:** Ooooookay, guys. I expected this chapter to be much longer and to post much sooner, but life had other ideas. I can't even express how stressful it's been.

Let's keep our fingers crossed that the next chapter will come sooner. In the mean time, let me know what you thought of this chapter. :)


	15. Freedom

I stared at my reflection as I sat in front of the floor-length window, my legs folded beneath me Indian style. Jenna had gone not long ago to find Bonnie.

I tilted my head slightly as I took in my appearance. My eyes were glazed over and red around the edges. My stare portrayed no emotion, just emptiness. My lips were cracked and ashen. My hair hung limply around my too bony shoulders. My body was too thin altogether. I looked numb and nearly dead.

The tremors were hitting me more frequently and I had a feeling it was because it was protesting my decision. My mind would never be ready to confront what happened that night. I was going to have to force myself to remember everything and I knew the result wouldn't be pretty.

A knock on the open door caught my attention and I glanced over my shoulder.

"Hi," Bonnie said softly with a slight smile.

I turned back to look out the window, not really feeling up to casual greetings. My fingers began unconsciously picking at a thread on the hem of my shirt.

I heard the metal chair that Damon had occupied the previous day move as she sat down behind me.

"So, you've had an interesting day or two, huh?" she asked with a small giggle, trying to lighten the mood of the room I guessed.

My expression remained unchanging, but I nodded once.

Awkward silence settled over us for several minutes before I heard Bonnie open the bag she carried with her. I watched in the window's reflection as she pulled out her ever-present notepad and pen. She crossed her legs, sat the notepad on her knee, then looked up at me.

"So, Elena, why did you call me in here today?"

Good. She was ready to get down to business. So was I.

"I'm ready to talk about what happened to me," I said quietly, my voice cracking slightly.

"Why now?"

I tilted my head to the other side and thought for a moment. "I need to get it out," I finally answered, looking outside again. I watched a bluebird swoop from a large oak tree and head toward the sky. "If I don't… it's going to kill me."

"I think your decision is a smart one, Elena," Bonnie encouraged. "And I'm here to listen to whatever you'd like to share. Begin when you're ready." The chair squeaked as she leaned back and I saw her place the tip of her pen against the paper, waiting to take notes.

I watched the bird as it climbed higher and higher until it disappeared through a fluffy white cloud. I needed to be free like that. I needed to do this.

With a deep inhale, I refocused my eyes on my own face.

I was strong enough to do this.

I had to do this.

I let the breath out and for the first time in ten years, I allowed myself to think back.

Nearly instantly every memory came rushing back and my chest tightened as the muscles in my body froze. My face disappeared from my gaze as my eyes lost focus and I tried concentrating on putting the events in order. I could feel the moisture in my dry eyes as tears brimmed along my waterline. My ears were bombarded with screams and moans and whirring, but I couldn't pull away this time.

"Elena, are you okay?" I heard the echo of Bonnie's voice, but she didn't sound next to me anymore.

I tried nodding, but I couldn't feel the movement. I wet my lips with my tongue before I began to speak.

"I was nine," I started in a breathy whisper, barely loud enough for even my own ears to hear. "It was the morning of Jeremy's seventh birthday…" as I spoke the words, the metallic blue colors of the banner that read 'Happy Birthday!' decorated my vision and I suddenly found myself in my family's living room.

"Jeremy was asleep on a red bean-bag chair in the living room. He had gotten it as an early birthday present and he refused to sleep in his own bed because of it," I laughed quietly at the memory. "It was the first time he every _really_ stood up to Mom and Dad and…god, he thought he was so grown up. I remember him standing at the top of the stairs, his little hands on his hips, in such a defiant stance. He told them… " I chuckled again, "he told them, 'Momma, Dad, I need you guys to realize that I'm almost seven now. And if I want to sleep on my bean-bag chair, well, then that's something we'll all just have to accept.' And he grabbed the chair and dragged it behind him down the stairs. It was so much bigger than him, but he didn't ask for help. He pulled it all the way into the living room, then laid down on it. Mom and Dad wanted to laugh, I could tell, but they didn't want to take away his thunder so they hid it."

My smile slowly fell as I returned to the memories that caused that day to be etched into my mind. "I remember I was sitting at the edge of my bed, playing with that Bop It toy, you know the one that says 'bop it, pull it, twist it'…it was my favorite… and I had been awake for about an hour, but I knew no one else was awake. It was too early. It was like three in the morning so it was still night outside. So I was sitting there, playing with the toy, and I had just 'bopped it' when I heard shattering glass. I immediately thought of Jeremy and…" my words caught in my throat and I had to swallow a few times before I could continue. "…and I remember thinking, 'Man…he's gonna' be in so much trouble.'" I felt the first tear slide down my cheek. "So I laid my toy on my bed and took off running for the living room. I made it halfway down the stairs before I saw them."

I ground my teeth together as the vision of my living room turned red. I could feel my chest heating as anger rose inside of me. "There were three men. They were dressed in all black with ski masks and everything. The glass from the windows was scattered everywhere on the living room floor and the men were standing beside the pile of birthday presents my parents had set up in the middle of the night for Jer. They were picking up the toys and just…destroying them. I saw Jeremy standing in the corner, crying with absolutely horrified eyes as they broke his things. Then one of the men pulled out a knife and…I remember the small white balls spilling from the bean-bag chair as he tore it open. Jeremy screamed and charged at him. Before he even made it to his chair, another man grabbed him and shoved him into the living room closet. When Jer tried fighting him… the man… slapped him and Jer… just stopped fighting." My brow knit together and it felt as though my throat was being blocked by something and I had to really concentrate on taking in breaths.

A few more tears escaped my eyes and I felt my muscles starting to shake. My mind did not want me to continue, but I had to. I had gone this far, I needed to finish.

I let out a shaky exhale before continuing. "I turned around and ran back up the stairs to find my parents, and that's when the men saw me. They chased after me and I had just made it to my parents door when one of them grabbed me by my ponytail and dragged me back. I fought him the best I could and screamed, but he just grabbed me by the waist and carried me back downstairs. He took me into the kitchen and threw me in the floor, telling me to sit and watch. I remember huddling in the corner against the cabinets, crying for my mom.

A few minutes later the other two men walked in with my parents. They held guns up to their heads and forced them into the kitchen. My dad looked at me and mouthed, 'It'll be okay,' but Mom had her eyes clenched tight, sobs breaking from her chest. She looked so scared. I wanted to run to her, but the man wouldn't let me."

I wrapped my arms around my torso and cringed as the sound of my mom crying filled my ears.

"They took my mom and told her to sit down in the kitchen chair. Then they tied her up with this thick brown rope. They even wrapped it around her neck and I remember she couldn't turn to look at anything. Then they made my Dad kneel in front of her and they told him they had taken the safe from his work office. They told him they knew what was inside and they would kill him if he didn't give them to code to open it. Dad didn't even hesitate. He gave them the code. He would've done anything to protect us…" I bit down on my lower lip as small tremor shocked my body. It knew what part of the story I was approaching and it was warning me to stop.

I blinked away a few tears. "But… as soon as he told them… they shot him." The sound of the gunshot deafened me and I leaned forward to bury my head in my lap, but I forced the words to continue. "And he fell forward into my mom's lap. And she screamed and then he fell to the side. His body made such a loud thud as it hit the floor and his eyes… they were staring right at me… and I couldn't look away as the blood started to pour from this back of his head," unconsciously my fingers touched the back of my hair, "and… I guess our kitchen floor wasn't level because all of it… all of the blood came running toward me. But I was too scared to move."

I began rocking slightly, my forehead pressed against my legs, as new memories began washing over me. "The blood ran right up to me. It was warm and sticky and… I was only wearing one of Daddy's t-shirts that I had slept in so it covered my bare legs… I tired pulling away from it but I was already against the cabinets and… it just surrounded me. It went all the way around my back and when I got it on my hands, I couldn't help but to get it everywhere. It covered the shirt, my arms, my legs… and it smelled so strong… like rust…" My stomach convulsed with a dry heave as I smelled the blood.

Every part of my body was trembling and tensing and my heartbeat was racing as I approached my mother's part of the story. I tried breathing deeply, but I was nearing a panic attack so the breaths wouldn't stay. I fought past them to continue. "Then they… the men… one of them asked what to do with my mom… and they laughed…" my eyes clenched tightly, "and the laughs were so sick… so fucking disgusting… They untied her and shoved her face first into the blood on the floor. One of the men held her head and arms down while the other two began ripping off her sleep clothes. Her head was turned toward me and when I looked at her… she…" a few tears squeezed their way past my closed eyes, "she was so frightened. You could just see all of her fear in her eyes. She wasn't like Dad. She couldn't say it was going to be okay when it wasn't… all she said was 'Turn around' and I did. I faced the cabinets and closed my eyes. I heard them, though. I heard her crying and I heard them grunting and moaning and…" the first full sob broke free from my quivering lips and I struggled to keep it at bay, but I couldn't stop the tears from now falling from my eyes. "They… fucking raped her… all three of them… then they finished and…"

I sat up and opened my eyes, my chest heaving up and down as I searched for air. My eyes focused back on the present and I looked at my reflection, at my tear-stained face. I watched my lips as they formed the words. "…And then one of them strangled her. With a belt. I heard her fighting for air, I heard her scratching the floor…but she had told me to turn around so I stayed that way…" My eyes that were earlier blank were now overcome with sadness. "…What if I had tried helping her? I shouldn't have just stayed turned around…" I whispered, now speaking just to myself. "I should've helped her…"

I closed my eyes and took a few breaths, realizing my story was not complete. "Then the men left the kitchen… and I heard them open the living room closet… and then I heard another gunshot. Then they left… and the house was silent."

As the words left me, my body sagged slightly. In less than a second, it felt as though a tremendous weight had suddenly been lifted from my body, leaving me light and able to breath. I opened my eyes and looked at myself again. I exhaled a deep breath. I could already see a difference in my eyes. They weren't as dark anymore.

"I sat there in the pool of blood until the police came. Someone reported that our front windows were broken and asked them to check into it. They took me from the house and I never went back," I finished, bringing a hand up to wipe away a few lingering tears from my lashes.

I already felt so much different… almost better. All of the words that I had been keeping locked away in my mind were free… and so was I.

Bonnie hadn't spoken since the beginning of the story and I suddenly recalled that she was in the room.

I turned to look over my shoulder at her.

She was staring at me with slightly wide eyes, her mouth hanging open half an inch. I glanced at the notepad that she held slightly off of one knee.

She hadn't written anything.

* * *

**A/N:** Goodness, guys, this was a hard chapter to write. My eyes kept watering and I'd have to take breaks. But I'm glad she got it out. Even I feel better. And I hope this chapter came soon enough for you all. Lol. Seems the cliffy of the last chapter left people reeling. :)

Review, review, review! I'm so excited that we're so close to 500 reviews!

See you guys next chapter.


	16. Pitiful

Day 20

"So, what was it like?"

I wiped my mouth with a napkin as I swallowed the eggs I had been chewing before responding. "What was what like?"

"The outside."

I shrugged. "Not really any different than before. I mean, I've only been in here for 20 days, Caroline."

She nodded slowly to herself, her gaze trained far away as she looked out the floor-to-ceiling window in my room.

After Bonnie had left yesterday, Jenna and her staff came in to give me medicine that would help with my withdrawals. I had assumed that Bonnie had suggested it. This morning they brought me breakfast and, surprisingly, I felt that I could stomach it.

For the first time in a long time, waking up wasn't so hard. Eating wasn't so hard. Breathing wasn't so hard. Being me in general wasn't so hard.

Jenna had brought Caroline along with the food. Apparently Caroline had been begging to come and see me as soon as I got back, but they wouldn't allow it. I think Bonnie might've suggested this as well.

"Well, I only ask because it's been so long since I've been out there. Like _really_ out there and not just in the yard." She turned away from the window and came to sit on the bed beside me. "I admire your bravery."

"What bravery?" I nearly laughed as I sat the now empty tray on my bedside table and began digging through the drawer for my bag of chocolates.

"I would never have the courage to try running. I would get caught, I just know it. I'm not stealthy like you."

I shook my head while unwrapping a Snickers. "That wasn't bravery nor courage nor stealth, Caroline. It was stupidity."

"Well, whatever you want to call it, I wish I had it," she sighed as she dropped down onto her back. Her fingers began to drum silently on her flat stomach.

I looked down at her, moving the chocolate in my mouth with my tongue as I thought. "You know I talked to Bonnie yesterday morning."

"Mm," she responded noncommittally.

"I told her about my past." As the words came out, I visually saw Caroline stiffen. Her fingers stopped their movement and her jaw tightened. "I told her everything," I continued. "And… I think it actually helped." Caroline remained unmoving, her eyes locked toward the ceiling. I took a deep breath before going on. "Have you thought about maybe doing the same?"

Her lips mashed into a hard line as we sat in silence for several moments. "I don't have a past to speak of," she finally answered.

"But when we first met, you said you knew death, too…" I prodded.

Abruptly she stood up and crossed over to the intercom.

"Yes?" the voice answered.

"I'm ready to leave now," Caroline said, her arms folding over her chest.

"I'll send Jenna," came the reply from the speaker.

I sighed. "I'm sorry, Caroline, I didn't mean to upset you. It was just a thought. It was stupid."

She ignored me and walked over to the door, her foot tapping as she waited for Jenna.

I ran a hand over my face and sighed again. Bonnie had warned me a few weeks ago, when she found out Caroline and I were friends, that Caroline was extremely sensitive to anything reality based. She told me that it was unlikely Caroline would be willing to open up about anything unless it pertained to her vampire life.

The metal door clicked open and before Jenna could step inside, Caroline slipped out without another word to me. Jenna looked in, her brow raised slightly.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"Just tell her I'm sorry," I said before lying down on my back. There was no reason trying to get Caroline to stay. She would be over it in a few hours and I would go look for her then. I heard the door close and I exhaled deeply.

I knew I should be worried about Caroline with how I upset her, but I really couldn't find the strength to. With the weight of my story gone, now nestled heavily in the ears of Bonnie, and with my body officially clean of the drugs from the other night, I found that I was just… tired.

I felt better, yes, but overall I just felt that I needed more rest.

I had been holding on so tightly to everything for such a long time that now I just wanted to worry about nothing and concentrate on spending some peaceful time with myself.

I filled my lungs with air again and let my eyes flutter close on the exhale.

Almost immediately there was a knock at the door.

I suppressed the urge to groan or to tell whoever was on the other side to fuck off. I was trying to turn over a new leaf; one where I didn't harbor so much anger.

That was harder than it seemed.

I rolled my head to the side as the door slowly opened. I expected it to be Jenna, probably here to chastise me for upsetting Caroline, but my body instantly warmed and tingled as the messy, dark brown hair of Damon peeked around the corner.

I pushed myself up and smoothed down my clothes, suddenly very aware that I had only woken about an hour ago and had yet to brush my hair or wash my face.

He stepped inside and I looked up at him. "Hey," he smiled, and my jaw fell slightly as the brilliancy of that grin startled me. Waking up this morning with the heaviness of my world dissipated was like waking with new eyes. Everything was brighter. Everything was clearer. Everything was beautiful. Especially him.

"Hi," I breathed out, finding it hard to gather air.

He looked down to the ground and chuckled quietly to himself. I felt my skin heat with a blush.

"What's up?" I asked, hoping to cover my embarrassment.

He shrugged, his hands casually buried inside the pockets of his leather jacket. He looked back up at me and I nearly gasped as I was instantly drawn into the breathtaking vividness of his nearly colorless-azure/gray eyes. Since the first time I had met him, I'd always simply thought of his blue eyes as ice blue or crystal. Suddenly I had a thousand shades of blue running through my mind, trying to place his eye color, but none of the words even seemed to compare to his.

My eyes fell to his perfectly pouty lips as he began to speak, and I could barely pay attention to his words.

"I thought I'd come to see how you were today."

"I thought I wasn't allowed visitors," I responded, still staring intently as his soft lips curled into the most miraculous smirk I'd ever seen.

"Bonnie called me," he told me truthfully.

Hm. Seemed Bonnie was on a roll today.

I nodded slowly to myself and met his gaze again. "Well, I guess you can see I'm doing good."

He walked farther into the room and sat down in the desk chair, rotating it to face me. "Are you?" he questioned.

"Yeah," I smiled softly. "I mean, I know that I have a long way to go with things, but… you know, I told Bonnie about my family… that was a start."

He eyes softened, as did his smile. "She hadn't told me you told her," he said quietly.

My brow furrowed slightly. "What did she tell you then?"

"Just that you could probably use a visit."

"Oh." I guess I should've known Bonnie wouldn't have told him. There was that whole patient-doctor confidentiality thing and Bonnie was definitely not the type of person to disregard that. I nodded again and looked back to him. "Well, I did, anyway. I told her everything."

He reached over and gently placed a hand on my arm. My eyes shot down to where we were connected, my skin suddenly fizzling with heat. "I'm so proud of you, love," he whispered.

I ran my tongue over my increasingly dry lips and swallowed hard before looking back up. "Thank you."

He pulled his hand back and the area continued to prickle for several moments where his fingers had lain.

"So, I actually had something I wanted to ask you," he started as he crossed his arms, leaning back in the chair. "And it was something I was going to ask the other day, but considering…"

I closed my eyes and nodded, indicating he didn't need to continue. Considering I had fucked him and left. Yeah, I got it. "Were going to ask what?" I asked.

"There's this thing, it's like a gala or a ball or whatever you want to call it, that the chief of police throws every year. It's in like 4 days, and I really thought with everything that was going on it wouldn't be wise for you to go, but I talked to Bonnie about it and she thinks that it would be perfectly fine for you to attend. So… I guess that was my question. If you'd go with me or not?" He shifted slightly in his seat, giving me the impression that he was nervous.

The thought brought a smile to my lips and tenderness to my heart. "Sure, Damon," I responded. "I'd love to."

He let out a quiet breath and I was met again with that glorious grin. "Great." The room fell silent, but our eyes remained locked.

As he stared at me, I could feel my cheeks heating once more and my heart picking up pace. I needed to be close to him. I wanted to wrap my fingers in his soft hair and hold him against me. I wanted to tell him what I had learned two days ago – that I loved him.

I chanced a glance down at his lips and when I did, they parted slightly and he released a shuddering breath, increasing my desire to kiss him. My heart felt like it was squeezing with the distance, so I moved slowly to the edge of the bed and began to lean forward… they looked so inviting… closer… they looked perfect… closer… they looked… so… tempti-

_Zzzz Zzzz Zzzz Zzzz_

I snapped back straight as the vibrating of his phone completely broke me out of my reverie. When I looked at him, I was surprised to see that he, too, was leaning away and his face was ever-so-slightly flushed. I hadn't realized he'd been moving toward me as well.

He reached into his jeans and pulled out his cell phone. Clearing his throat once, he swiped the answer bar and brought it to his ear.

"Detective Salvatore," he greeted the caller and I immediately understood it was work related. His eyes focused away from me, at nothing in particular, and I watched them grow infinitesimally darker. "I'll be right there, don't let him go," he commanded before hanging up the phone without a goodbye. He stood, shoving the device back into his pocket, and looked down at me with a sigh. "I'm sorry, but…"

"You've got to go," I finished with a small smile, hoping my disappointment wasn't showing through. "No worries. I'll see you later."

He gave a hard nod before leaning down and gently kissing my cheek. As his lips touched me, my breath strangled in my throat and I felt faint.

I heard him chuckle by my ear again before pulling away.

He absolutely knew how he affected me.

I didn't like it.

With a soft goodbye, Damon left my room. Nearly instantly, the tiny space felt much more small and pitiful.

I let out a quiet groan and fell back on the bed.

I was pitiful.

The man was gone for half a second and I already missed him.

What the hell was happening to me?

* * *

**A/N:** You're in love, silly!

This chapter wasn't long at all, but it's more than I expected to have this week.

But you guys just wait. This chapter was really just a transition into the craziness that's about to occur.

Leave a review!

See you guys next chapter!


	17. Flood

Day 24

The next four days went without incident. If I had thought I felt good the first day after telling Bonnie my secrets, then I now felt great. Each day was brighter and brought with it newfound strength. Jenna and the staff obviously recognized the change because they allowed me to walk around the facility without an escort or time restraints.

As I had suspected, Caroline was over the whole "you should talk to Bonnie"-fiasco by that afternoon. As soon as I had visited her room, she was the same ol' chatterbox I was used to. It was as if me upsetting her had never even happened. And I was grateful because I really wanted to share with her the news of Damon inviting me to the gala.

As soon as the words fell from my lips, Caroline squealed in a decibel that only dogs could hear and demanded that Jenna take us shopping for a dress. We scheduled the trip for the next day.

That trip never happened, however, because the next morning a long white box was delivered to my room. The box had already been opened, inspected by the front desk, of course, and the once sealed letter that was attached to it was taped back haphazardly. Inside the letter read:

_My dearest Elena,_

_I hope you find this gift to your liking. It is with the utmost anticipation that I await being able to see you in this. I already know you will be a vision to behold._

_Sincerely, _

_Damon Salvatore_

I bit down on my lower lip as my body swooned. This man would be the death of me.

Quickly, I pulled away the lid and gasped as I was met with the most gorgeous purple gown I had ever seen. With shaking fingers, I cautiously lifted it from the box and my eyes grew wide. It was beautiful.

The day of the event, Caroline and Jenna seemed to be filled with the excitement I too should have felt. Instead, for some reason, I found that I was nervous and antsy whenever I thought about my outing with Damon. Was he considering this a date? Was this taking a step forward in our relationship – him being seen with me in public? Was I ready for this? What if it ended badly? Would I turn to drugs again?

The questions filed through my mind repeatedly while I sat in front of the bathroom mirror as Jenna fixed my hair. I watched in the reflection as she curled sections of my long hair into perfect spirals. She glanced up at me and frowned.

"What's on your mind?" she asked.

I shrugged and my eyes fell to my fingers that were twisting together in my lap. "Nothing," I lied.

She let out a sharp, humorless chuckle. "Elena, you're way too easy to read. How about the truth?"

My teeth began to chew on my lower lip as I thought about how to answer. "I guess I'm just nervous," I finally offered.

She nodded, seeming to accept my explanation. "That's to be expected," she told me as she allowed another newly curled strip of hair to float down against my back. "But I have a good feeling about this. I think it'll be good for you."

I looked back up to see her smiling at me. Since Jenna had learned of my improvements, her attitude toward me had taken a 180. Now she treated me like she had in the beginning, with almost motherly manners. Her optimism about tonight rubbed off slightly and I returned her grin.

Two hours later, my heart was hammering in my chest as I rode the elevator down to the first floor where I knew Detective Salvatore was waiting. I shifted my weight from foot to foot as I watched the numbers descend on the elevator screen. A few seconds later, I felt the slight jar of the elevator stopping and I sucked in a deep breath as the doors dinged open.

He was standing immediately outside the metal doors and the breath I had been holding whooshed out in one quick gust.

He was stunning.

He was dressed in a formal black and white tux with a black tie and his disheveled hair wasn't quite so disheveled. The way his piercing eyes stood out against all the dark colors was enough to make my heart stop.

I went to step off the elevator until his expression suddenly made me stop short. He was staring at me with his mouth hanging open slightly, his eyes nearly wide with something resembling shock.

I immediately thought something was wrong and looked down at myself.

Before I had left my room, I had inspected myself closely to make sure I was up to par for a gala. I had thought I was.

The silky material of the dress clung perfectly to my petite frame and fell delicately into a pool of purple against the floor. The back of the dress dipped low across my back and the straps crisscrossed between my shoulder blades. My hair was pulled halfway up with the long tresses landing elegantly against my skin all the way down to my waist. Around my neck I wore a family heirloom that had been in my purse when I had first been picked up. I had completely forgotten about it, but Jenna remembered it being stored with my "outside" belongings and had fetched it for me. It was a silver locket and etched into its surface was my family crest: a phoenix bird rising between leaves.

I thought I looked quite nice.

Before I had time to look back up, the elevator doors began to close again and it broke Damon from his momentary stupor. His eyes snapped up and he threw out a hand to keep it open.

"Sorry, sorry, um..." he shook his head slightly and finally met my eyes. He smiled gently. "I apologize. I became distracted."

My brow furrowed and I looked down again. "Is something wrong with me? Am I not supposed to wear this?" I didn't understand.

He chuckled quietly and the sound caused my eyelids to fall slightly. "No, nothing like that." He reached for my hand and helped me step off of the elevator. As I passed by him, he leaned in closely and whispered in my ear, "You're breathtaking, love."

My face heated as I suddenly understood the expression he had previously worn. He thought I looked _good_. "Thank you," I murmured in response.

My blush was still fading as Damon opened the door to his black SUV and helped me inside. After we began down the drive, he casually reached over and grabbed my hand, linking our fingers together and laying them against the center consol.

I swear I could hear my fucking heart in my ears.

This was it. This was the next step in our relationship. He was acknowledging what we had. The proof was in the fact that I could feel his skin against my own. When he began to softly run his thumb against the top of my hand, I thought I was going to faint. This was too much for me. I wasn't ready for this.

No. I was. I could do this. Things were changing for me. I _could _handle this.

I had been staring at our connected hands for so long that I hadn't even realized Damon had been speaking.

"Elena?" he asked, concern apparent in his tone. "Are you okay?"

I blinked several times, trying to bring myself back to the present. I looked up at him and nodded too quickly. "Yes. Um, yeah," I took a few breaths, trying to calm myself. I laughed nervously. "Yes, I'm fine. Sorry. Just… distracted." I used his own words and glanced up at him, relieved to find him smiling down at me.

"Glad I'm not the only one that happens to," he responded and I couldn't help but blush again.

I looked away from him and out the window. "So, where is this being held at?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"Well, it's being held at his house, but we'll go to the station first."

My brow knit in confusion and I turned toward him. "What?"

He looked over at me quickly, obviously surprised by my sharp tone. "I already told you this, Elena."

"Told me what?" Apparently he had been explaining something important while I had been "distracted."

"We have a new lead in the Donovan case. We wanted you to come down and answer a few questions before attending the gala."

My chest tightened and I couldn't help but pull my hand away from his slowly. "Why tonight?" I asked as I folded my arms over my chest.

I watched his eyes fall to his now lonely hand and the brief disappointment that flashed across his face almost made me feel bad. Almost. I didn't want to have to deal with stupid police and murder cases tonight. I just wanted to have a nice time with Damon.

His composure was quickly regained before he responded. "Because, the longer we wait, the more time whoever did this has to get away. Normally you have no luck after the first 48 hours. We're hoping this lead will help regardless of the fact we're nearly a month into it." My head bowed slightly and I couldn't help but feel upset that my night would now be ruined by memories of Vicki. My jaw tightened when I felt Damon's hand gently rub against my arm. "Hey, look, we'll be in and out in no time, okay?" he said softly, trying his best to comfort me.

I just nodded, not even wanting to pretend that I was okay with this.

I heard him sigh as his hand pulled away.

...

"This place is awfully empty," I observed as Damon led me through the halls of the station and into the interrogation room.

"They're all at the gala. And we will be, too, as soon as these questions are answered." He pulled out the chair I was becoming much too familiar with for me to sit and grabbed the tape recorder. I saw the red light come to life as he hit 'record', wasting absolutely no time. Apparently he was just as anxious to get out of here as I was. "Please state your name for the record," he requested and his tone was all business.

"Elena Gilbert," I complied.

He walked around the table and sat in the opposite chair. "Miss Gilbert, before we begin, you understand that this conversation is being recorded and can potentially be played before a judge and jury should any information you have be deemed pertinent to the Donovan case?"

"I do."

"Okay, Miss Gilbert, we've asked you here because we recently obtained information that you may be able to add to. You would not argue that Miss Donovan was known to silicate sex for money, is that right?"

I cringed slightly as the memory of Vicki on her knees formed in my mind. "No, I would not," I responded.

"And you often knew some of the men she did business with?"

Business. The word almost made me laugh. "I did."

"How did you know some of these men?"

I had been watching the tape recorder, but at his question my eyes snapped up to his. He knew how I knew these men. Did he really want me to answer this question? And on record? "I…um…" my mind raced with how to phrase the answer. "I… frequented the same crowds as she did."

He nodded once, indicating that the answer was sufficient enough. "Miss Gilbert, we have learned that soon before Miss Donovan's death, she acquired a new client. Had she mentioned this to you?"

My brow furrowed and I looked down to the floor as I tried to think that far back. It was difficult. Thinking to any time while I was on drugs was like digging through a dense fog. Faces and names and places were all just a jumble of static noise and I could barely decipher any of it. "I…I can't remember," I answered honestly. I looked back up at him, suddenly afraid that I was disappointing him. I really was trying.

"Do you remember seeing Vicki before her death?"

"Yes, she was at a friends house." I could hardly even picture Vicki herself anymore without conjuring up the image of her "doing business" with my drug dealers brother.

"What about in the days before that?"

I shook my head slightly. "I don't remember. I was… sick, I guess, during that time. I don't remember much of anything. I'm sorry."

Damon was silent for several moments before finally nodding to himself. "Thank you, Miss Gilbert, those are all of the questions we have for you today." With that, he stopped recording.

"Damon, I'm so sorry," I immediately began. "I was so fucked up on the drugs back then. I honestly can't remember shit." Tears began to brim along my water line as a sinking feeling came over me. I had been doing so well with dealing with my past. How was I supposed to deal with things that I couldn't even remember?

His brow knit slightly as he registered that I was about to cry. "Oh, no, Elena, don't…" he rushed over to my chair and before I could say anything, he pulled me up and wrapped me into his arms. "Don't cry, darling. It's okay, really. This was just a long shot. We're just following any and all leads trying to get _somewhere._ It's okay that you couldn't help. Maybe you'll remember something later on." His hand ran through my hair repeatedly as his other held my face to his chest.

I closed my eyes and willed the tears to stop. I was starting to feel stupid.

But I also felt… safe being in his arms. Suddenly I didn't feel so panicked that I couldn't remember things. He soothed me with just a touch.

Damon was all of the comfort I needed.

I nodded and took a deep breath before pulling away. "Can we leave now?" I asked softly.

His soft smile and his sparkling eyes nearly knocked me off my feet. "Sure, love."

…

Beethoven's String Quartet No. 4 in C Minor was drifting through the archway of a large entrance as Damon and I were led into a banquet room full of impeccably dressed Mystic Falls community members.

I was astonished that this place was actually someone's home. The ceilings were extremely high with beautiful morals painted around the crystal chandeliers. Antique artifacts lined the walls, giving the impression this was more of a museum than a house. A part of the banquet room floor had been sectioned off for dancing and women in flowing gowns were being twirled by tuxedo-clad men. Servers outfitted in matching black and white uniforms were dodging with precision through the dancers as they balanced trays of expensive-looking edibles on one hand.

As I took in the scene, I was suddenly met with a feeling of inadequacy. I didn't belong here. Half of these people had probably never even seen heroin much less known someone that had been addicted to it. My fingers were twisting together and as I looked down at them, my eyes ran up my arms to the still-healing scars located on my wrists. They weren't immediately noticeable to someone who wasn't staring at my arms, but to me they felt as if they were glowing red and signaling to everyone my misdeeds. Slowly, I rotated my arms until the scars were hidden against my dress and out of view.

The farther we walked into the large room, the tighter a knot grew in my stomach. My legs felt heavy as I forced myself forward and it felt as though a rope was tied to my midsection, tugging me back with each step. When I chanced a glance up, I was immediately met with a few curious gazes – most coming from women. Their eyes were darting between Damon and myself, obviously wondering why in the world he would be with someone like me.

Why was he with me? The women in this room, especially the ones looking toward us, were gorgeous. So much more pretty than I. I really had no answer to the question.

My hands began to shake slightly and I could feel my face heating. I needed to get out of here.

I was a few seconds from turning around and bolting when the only thing in the world that could have saved me, did.

Damon's hand rested gently against the skin of my lower back.

This man was worse than drugs.

The simple act of making skin-to-skin contact with him immediately calmed my body, stopped the shaking, and freed my mind of the damning thoughts. I turned to look up at him and found him staring down at me, a soft smile on his lips.

"You're okay," he whispered an assurance and I half wondered if this detective could also read minds. He always knew exactly what to say and when to say it.

My concentration became locked on him as I found myself drowning in the depth of his eyes. The intimidating room around me slowly faded away and I was left with just Damon. Suddenly I found the answers to my question in his gaze. He was here with me because he cared about me. To him, my past didn't matter. His words rang in my mind: "_The mistakes you have made do not define you."_ To him, I was simply Elena and he accepted me for who I was.

My hand slowly lifted until my fingertips ran against the soft stubble on his jaw. My tongue ran over my dry lips and a new peace began to settle over me. This peace was different than when I had finally told my story to Bonnie. I was ready to tell Damon that I loved him. I was ready to put myself out there.

"Damon, I think that I –"

"Damon Salvatore!" a male voice boomed, interrupting my confession.

I sighed and closed my eyes, allowing my hand to fall. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I may never find the courage to speak those words again and fate just couldn't fucking let me get it over with now.

I felt Damon's fingers press softly into my back, as he turned us toward the approaching man.

"Elijah," Damon nodded in greeting. "This place looks amazing. Wonderful job."

The man named Elijah shrugged, though the broad smile on his face indicated he was pleased with the compliment. He turned toward me. "And who do we have here?" he asked with a slight tilt of his head.

I held out a hand. "I'm Elena Gilbert. Nice to meet you, sir."

"Elena Gilbert?" he responded with raised brow. His eyes quickly darted to Damon as he lifted my hand and, instead of shaking it, gently placed a kiss on my knuckles.

I glanced over at Damon, finding Elijah's response curious.

Damon looked to me and immediately recognized my question. "Um, Elena, Elijah is our chief of police. He's worked for the station for nearly 25 years. He actually led the investigation during your parents… you know…" Damon trailed off and his eyes fell to the floor, but he didn't need to say anymore for me to understand. This was the man that failed to find my family's killers.

My lips pressed into a tight line and I tried forcing a smile. I didn't need to blame anything on this man. I knew how hard they worked on the investigation, but without many leads, they couldn't find much of anything. It was still difficult not to feel a grudge. Why could they find other killers but not the ones of my parents and brother?

"Elena, it's been so long since I've seen you. How have you been?"

I swallowed hard and quickly searched my mind for how to respond. How have I been? I wanted to answer with: Well, not too great if we're being honest with one another. I became addicted to drugs, sucked some guys off to get those drugs, and tried killing myself a few times. How have you been, Mr. Elijah?

"Fine," is what finally squeaked out of my increasingly dry mouth.

Damon cleared his throat. "Elijah, if you don't mind, I think I'd like to ask Elena to dance with me." He turned to look at me, his brows lifted slightly.

"I'd love to," I breathed almost silently, so thankful that Damon was stepping in to diffuse the tension.

"I'll catch up with you two later," Elijah smiled, completely unaware of how uncomfortable he had just made me.

Damon gently guided me along to the floor with his hand on my back. When we were in the dancing area, I turned to face him. The fingers on his hand splayed to cover more of my lower back and his other hand wrapped around my own. I placed my free hand on his shoulder and he began to lead.

Dancing with Damon was effortless. I had never liked dancing and had never been particularly good at it, but Damon made the experience like floating. He was firm, yet gentle, in the way that he held me close to his body. He moved us smoothly across the floor, sweeping past the other dancers.

He would never cease to amaze me.

I tilted my head forward slightly and breathed deeply, filling my nostrils with the spicy, manly scent of Damon.

"How are you?" Damon asked softly in my ear.

I shrugged. "Okay, I guess."

"I honestly had forgotten to mention Elijah before. I apologize."

"Don't worry about it. I'm fine," I smiled up at him.

He sighed softly, his jaw tightening as he stared into my eyes. "You really do look remarkable tonight, Elena."

The inevitable blush returned and I ducked my head slightly. "Thank you. So do you."

A small smirk turned the corner of his lips before he leaned in and gently kissed me, successfully stealing my breath away. He was so smooth he didn't even need to stop leading me in a dance to perform the kiss. He did both with ease, like neither action hindered him in any way.

He pulled away after a few seconds and I smiled when _he_ released a shuddering breath. I guess he wasn't as unaffected as I thought.

"Thank you for coming with me tonight."

"Thank you for inviting me. I'm always happy to jump at the opportunity to get out of the facility for a while," I laughed and then my eyes grew slightly wide, realizing how that might've sounded. "But, I mean, not that I didn't want to come with you regardless… because I did," I jumped to correct myself.

He laughed and the sound cut through my panic. "Ah, now I get it. All I am to you is a ticket out of there," he joked.

I rolled my eyes and playfully hit his shoulder. "Shut up," I giggled. "You mean more to me than that."

His chuckling died and his lips pressed into a slight smile. "Do I?" he asked softly, and when I glanced up to his eyes, I saw them darken slightly.

I nodded and felt my blush deepen. "Well… I mean, yeah," I answered honestly. Maybe fate was giving me a chance after all.

"How much do I mean to you?" he asked quietly and my body shivered as his cool breath flowed over me.

I inhaled quickly, feeling my heart beat picking up pace. "A lot," I nearly whispered. "You –"

Once again I was interrupted. Fucking shit. Why couldn't I just get this out?

I gasped, along with twenty other people around me, as one of the usually meticulous servers tripped over his own feet and spilled ten flutes of champagne on my dress. The entire right side of my dress was suddenly soaked in a very expensive liquid.

"Oh my god, ma'am, I'm so sorry. I was trying to get by without spilling anything, but…"

I shook my head slightly and tried ineffectively wiping at my dress with my hands. "It's okay."

I looked up and realized that now Damon, the server, and I stood in the middle of a newly formed circle by the on looking crowd. I could feel the blush reaching my toes as I met their eyes.

"Damon, I need to go to the bathroom," I whispered quickly.

"Second floor. Third door on the right," he responded, pulling me by my elbow through the crowd. "I'll be down here when you're finished. I need to go speak to this catering company about their hired help," I heard him grit out through clenched teeth.

My eyes darted over to him and I could tell he was angry. Before heading up the stairs, I turned to him and gently placed a hand on his cheek. "It wasn't his fault, Damon. Just leave it alone," I requested. The man was probably embarrassed enough. No need in pushing it farther.

Before Damon had the opportunity to respond, I began up the stairs, anxious to get away from the whispering voices and intruding gazes.

It was exactly what I thought. I didn't belong here. And I didn't belong with Damon. If I did, fate would have let me told him I love him. It wouldn't have sent a man crashing down with champagne to still the conversation and turn everyone's attention to me.

My eyes burned with approaching tears. God, I was so stupid. I knew that this wasn't right. I _knew_ it. I had been telling myself since the beginning.

But Damon has a way of making me feel like maybe it could work. He makes me feel like maybe I am worth him caring for and he has a way of cancelling out my pejorative thoughts.

It's like a rollercoaster. One minute I'm convinced we're not meant to be together. The next I'm absolutely sure that he's the only one for me and I'm the only one for him.

Fuck.

I threw open the door that Damon had directed me to, the third door on the right, took several steps in, then stopped abruptly when I realized I wasn't standing in a bathroom. The room seemed more like an office, but it was decorated with just as many antiques as in the great room downstairs. Slowly I walked over to the shelf, curious as to what types of things would be held here where no one would see them instead of downstairs for everyone to admire.

The shelf was much taller than I was and had a locked glass covering to protect the items inside. I strolled down the length of it, admiring the pieces of jewelry within, the historical documents that dated back to the birth of our country, and the civil war weapons, dirty with mud and grime.

As I turned around to leave and to actually find the bathroom, a sparkling object at the end of the shelf caught my eye and I wandered over to it.

My brow furrowed slightly as I studied the jewel-encrusted Fabergé egg that was sitting on a gold-plated pedestal. The egg was beautifully and artistically created with the rare stones swirling in harmony across its surface.

Where had I seen this before?

My eyes traveled down the egg and to the pedestal. I felt my lower lip start to tremble and my eyes widen as I saw the etching at the base of the gold stand – my family crest. The phoenix in the leaves.

I don't know how it happened, and it's difficult to explain, but suddenly that fog that I had been swimming in earlier dissipated. It was as if parts of my memory had been stored away behind a concrete dam, and now that dam had crumbled to pieces and every forgotten memory rushed back, slamming into me with a force that made me stagger away from the item.

"_Elena, does Jeremy have a baseball?"_ _a nine-year-old Vicki Donovan asked._

"_Daddy was playing with Jeremy yesterday with one. Let's go look in Daddy's office," I giggled, knowing the baseball wouldn't be in there. I just wanted a reason to see Daddy who had been extremely busy and stuck in his office lately. _

_Both of our little legs ran down the hallway and we burst through the office door. Dad looked up at me and his eyes were tired. "Hi, honey, Vicki," he greeted us. _

"_Hi, Daddy," I grinned widely. "Do you have a baseball?"_

"_I don't think so, hon'. Did you check Jeremy's room?"_

"_Are these girls bothering you?" my mother's voice suddenly cut in as she walked into the room, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. _

_Dad laughed softly. "They're just looking for a baseball."_

"_Can we play with this?" Vicki asked and I turned around to see her holding the egg Daddy said never touch. _

_My mom swooped over quickly and plucked the egg from Vicki's hands. "No, no, Vicki. We don't play with this." She sat it back on its pedestal. "Dear, I do wish you'd get this thing out of the house. It's too expensive and I don't want the kids breaking it."_

_He nodded in agreement. "I'm taking it to the safe in my office tomorrow."_

That particular memory faded away in a cloud and was replaced with a second.

_Dad was on his knees in front of mom who had tears streaming down her face. _

"_We took the safe from your work. We know what's in it. Give us the fucking code. Now!" the man in black shouted._

"_99211. It's 99211," my dad immediately answered. _

_Then the shot rang loudly _and the memory swept away.

Tears were now pooling along my eyelashes and I found I couldn't look away from the egg as another memory flooded over me.

"'_Sup, bitch?" Vicki grinned as she walked up to me in the alley._

_I shrugged. "I need to get high. Do you have anything?"_

_She laughed, a shrill, unpleasant sound. "Fuck yeah, I do. And I won't even make you pay for any of it." She dug in her pocket and pulled out several small bags of heroin._

_I grinned. "Holy fuck, Vic. Where'd you get the money to pay for this?"_

"_I got me a regular paying customer, honey. You should try it."_

_I shook my head, already digging for the tools to cook down the substance. "Fuck that. I'll leave that kind of work for you ladies."_

"_This guy's actually not so bad. He lives in a huge fucking house, has a shit ton of money. I actually like going to see him."_

_I shuddered at the thought of having repeat sex with a man for money. _

"_I got another, um, date with him next week," she continued. "On Tuesday. $150 bucks just fucking waiting for me. And, let me tell you, finances isn't the only department he's not lacking in, if you get my drift."_

"_Ugh, I fucking get it, please don't go on." I did not want to hear about this perverts dick._

_She laughed. "Well, I just can't wait until Tuesday." _

I last saw Vicki at my drug dealers' house on Monday. I literally saw her one day before she was killed.

My eyes fell farther on the pedestal and the thing I read next completely knocked the breath out of me.

At the base of the pedestal, on a silver plated plaque, it read:

_Donated by Stefan Salvatore. _

The door behind me clicked and I spun around, grabbing at my chest with my hand.

Immediately I zoned in and realized where I had seen those eyes.

He had been one of the men in the black masks. I had never even thought to ask how old he was. I had assumed he was my age, but now I was certain that wasn't the case.

Standing in front of the now closed door was one of the men that took my family from me. I was positive of it. There was no doubt in my mind.

Stefan Salvatore.

* * *

**A/N:** Many of you guessed that he had something to do with it. Lol.

Leave me some reviews!

Also, I posted the one-shot that I wrote for "Fandoms Fight the Floods". Just go to my profile and click on "A Collegiate Experience." It's wonderfully smutty. ;P

See you guys next chapter!


	18. Falling

As his fingers rotated the lock on the knob, his eyes held their contact with mine.

As if ice were running through me, I could feel my veins go cold, and my suddenly clammy hands unconsciously rubbed against the sides of my dress. My chest burned as my breaths became shallow and a hollowness filled my ears as my senses became heightened, picking up on every sound and movement made around me.

Stefan's fingers fell from the lock and he placed both hands in the pockets of his pants. His shoulders straightened a bit and the muscles in his jaw flexed. If I hadn't have been so scared of him, I might have thought he looked nice dressed in his tux. Although he and Damon were different in so many ways, the fact that they were brothers was not entirely lost in his appearance. It was easy to tell by the shape of their mouth, the brightness of their eyes. But nothing about Stefan drew me in like Damon did. Instead it terrified me.

Slowly, Stefan took a step forward. When I stepped back in unison, a small smile turned the corners of his lips and I realized he was testing my reaction.

"Hi, Elena," he greeted me, and the sinister, pretending-to-be-friendly sound of it turned my stomach.

I opened my mouth to respond, but quickly closed it again when I realized I probably wasn't capable of more than a few mumbled half words.

His smile grew and his eyes fell to the floor as he casually walked over to the love seat positioned in the corner nearest the door.

As soon as eye contact had been lost and he had released me of his gaze, my chest felt lighter and I was capable of taking a deeper breath. I quickly glanced at the door and began calculating my distance from it – this was Tyler and the intercom button all over again.

"So," Stefan began as he folded his arms and leaned back into the seat, "what are you doing here?"

My attention snapped back to him and I suddenly recognized that there was one major difference between Tyler and Stefan – Stefan was a cop. He was trained to understand my body language, trained to know my next move. If he saw me looking at the door, he already knew what I was thinking. This wouldn't be that easy.

I ran my tongue across my lips and swallowed hard, trying to find my voice and fight off my fear. Maybe Stefan didn't know I knew.

"Damon invited me," I finally answered.

I cringed when his chuckle filled the air and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "No, no. I meant what are you doing _here_. As in this room." His brow lifted slightly with the question and my heart fell into my stomach. He knew. He definitely knew.

"I…uh…" I took a few more breaths to try and steady my shaking muscles. "I was looking for the bathroom. A guy… a server… spilled drinks on my dress," I answered and motioned with my hand to the purple section darkened by the liquid. "Damon told me the bathroom was the… like, the third door on the right. I guess he was wrong."

Stefan's lips pressed into a tight line as he stared at me for a few more moments, then his eyes drifted past me and to the display case. "Checking out Elijah's antiques?"

"No," I answered too quickly and his eyes snapped back to me. "I mean… I was… but not really... just… glancing at them, I guess…" My response sounded ridiculous even to my own ears, but in a moment of trepidation, I wasn't responsible for the ramblings that fell from my lips.

He nodded, his eyes appraising intensely. I was expecting him to say something else but then suddenly he stood. As he took his first step forward, the cold rush started back up in my body and my heartbeat quickened. I remained completely still as he walked forward and stopped just a foot from my body.

The air in the room went cold and became thick with tenseness. Stefan was obviously not in the mood to listen to my excuses. I watched as he lifted his arms and placed his hands on my shoulders. It took all of my efforts to restrain from flinching from his touch.

My mind began to race.

I didn't know what to do.

Should I run?

Should I scream?

Should I fight him?

As all of these thoughts ran through my mind, the next thought that followed sank into my entire being and I immediately recognized the truth.

_I won't do anything.  
_

I closed my eyes and blew out a shaky breath through my nose with the dreadful epiphany. I had to be realistic. I was too scared to even move. Whatever was about to happen would happen and there was nothing in me that could deter it.

This man was stronger than me. Nothing I could do would help. I saw the way he forced my father to submission. And then my mother. I was no stronger than either of them.

I was going to stand here and remain quiet and just wait to see what he would do next.

I opened my eyes and he was staring at me with a curious expression. He waited until I was fully focused on him again before he began to apply pressure on my shoulders and slowly, yet firmly, he rotated me around to face the display case.

My legs wobbled as I moved, my muscles nearly ready to give out from the tremors rocketing through me, but Stefan's hands made sure I stayed up and steady. When I was fully turned around, I felt him step closer, the smooth fabric of his tux rubbing against my bare back.

His nearness caused my pulse to drum loudly in my ears and my breaths were starting to come in quick pants through my slightly parted lips. I stared straight forward and my heart sank as I found my panic-stricken face in the reflection of the glass.

The eyes that stared back at me were those that belonged to my mother. They were frightened, yet understanding of what was going to happen. Beneath that, there was a struggle to find acceptance and a struggle to push it away.

Gently, Stefan moved a few strands of hair off of my shoulder and let them fall down my back, breaking my attention from my reflection to him. I found his face in the glass and shivered as his he ran the tip of his nose along the side of my neck, not close enough to touch me, but enough for me to feel his breath. I saw his eyes were trained down at my body and the sudden thought of being with him… in that way, made my stomach convulse.

Stefan lifted another curl and began wrapping it around his finger as he finally started to speak. "Elena, what's this in front of us?"

I looked to the egg and shook my head softly. "I… don't know," I whispered.

"Elena," he tsked and lifted his eyes to meet mine in the reflection. "You're lying." He didn't say the statement with anger but was simply calling me out on it. "Let me ask again…What is this in front of us?" he repeated with more force.

I closed my eyes. "An egg."

"Just an egg?" he questioned.

"No," I finally replied, feeling the weight of the situation closing in on me with each moment that passed.

He chuckled darkly and pushed all of my hair off to one side. As he stepped forward closer, I stiffened.

"Oh, Elena," he sighed, once again moving his nose close to my skin. "You've grown up quite a bit in the past ten years, haven't you?"

I opened my eyes and blinked a few times, the air rushing out of my lungs in one quick gust. I didn't need him to tell me. I knew the minute I saw the egg and his name that he was responsible for my families death. But hearing the words out loud, hearing him actually address what was on my mind, was a whole different level of scary for me. All of these moments before, my mind at least had the excuse of 'maybe you're overreacting and he's not the guy' to calm down with, but now I couldn't even say that.

It _was_ him.

And I was standing here with the man who helped kill my family. Alone.

Before I could stop myself from speaking, before I could actually think through the act, a single word rode out on my clipped breath. "Why?"

He laughed softly. "Elena, you're a junkie. You know as well as I do that when you want something bad enough, you'll do anything to get it."

"But… but you…" my lips began to quiver as my face heated and water quickly pooled in my eyes. A single tear slipped over my lashes and rolled down my cheek as I tried to force the words out with little breath to back them. "…you already had it… you had it and you… you k-kil…" I couldn't even finish the word as I dropped my head down. I didn't understand. If he and his companions already had the egg, why kill my family?

He ran his fingers along my shoulder and down my arm as he answered. "Ah, sweetie, you're not too quick on figuring things out are you? Must be because of all the drugs," he mused quietly to himself. "Do you really think that if something as expensive as this went missing that the owner wouldn't report it? And then because of the rarity of the item, that every antique owner and appraiser wouldn't be notified? No, no, I couldn't risk it. You see, our original intent was to sale it, but… just look at it. It looks much nicer with my name on it. Don't you think?" he asked softly, reaching around me and tilting my chin up until I was looking at the egg again.

Another tear joined the first as I stared at the glimmering gold of the egg and the brilliant red of the randomly placed rubies. "And Vicki?" I whispered.

"Well, trust me, that was as much a shock to me as anyone. I used to keep this beautiful piece at my home. Who would've known that the whore I found on the street would recognize it?"

I turned my focus to him in the reflection and bit the inside of my cheeks as my vision became clouded with red. He was staring in awe at the egg, not one trace of regret lining his face for the murders. And as much as I didn't want to know any more, I had to ask. "Why my brother?"

His eyes never left the egg as he spoke. "I really can't take credit for that or really answer why it happened. The children were not part of the plan. I guess my… _partners_ were a little more… exuberant, I guess, about our mission." And as he finished his sentence, his body did a motion that set me on fire.

He shrugged.

He fucking shrugged.

About the murder of my fucking bother. My seven-year-old brother.

All thoughts of not doing anything vanished and my jaw tightened, heat washing over me in an abrupt fit of rage.

Before Stefan had the chance to react or expect my movement, my arm rose and with all of the strength in my body, my elbow jabbed back and rammed squarely into his nose.

Stefan let out a strained "fuck" as his hands flew to his face and I used his moment of shock as a chance to get away. Twirling on my heels, I started my sprint across the room, my eyes zoned in on the door.

Although I ran, I knew I wouldn't make it. Just as I had thought earlier, Stefan was a cop. He was trained to react quickly in situations and he was used to people fighting back. I knew I had a snowball's chance in hell of escaping, but that didn't ease the sinking feeling that washed over me as his arms wrapped around my body and threw me back. As I hit the floor, the scream I had been holding in ripped out from my chest, loud and shrill and sure to draw attention.

Faster than I would have thought possible, Stefan grabbed my arm and flipped me onto my stomach, holding my arms behind me with one hand as his other covered my mouth.

"Shut up!" he commanded with low malice. "I swear, Elena, that if you scream again, I'll kill everybody that's fucking important to you. Don't think I haven't been watching you for the past month. Jenna, Caroline, Matt, _Ric. _They'll be dead within the next 24 hours. Do you understand?" he gritted out.

My chest ached with the weight of him on my back and tears were now streaming down my face. I nodded beneath his hand and closed my eyes tightly. The last thing I wanted was for other people that I consider my family to be hurt because of me. And I knew Stefan was absolutely serious in his threat. He would hurt them.

The pressure on my body disappeared as Stefan stood up, removing his hand from my mouth. He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up roughly to my feet as he wiped at his now bloody nose with the sleeve of his tux. My pulse was racing beneath my skin and the adrenaline coursing through me was causing me to shake harshly.

"Now, Elena," Stefan started softly, pushing me forward and walking me across the room. "I'm sure you've wanted to know for the past 10 years the reasoning for what happened to your family. Now you know and I trust that you've found closure with it."

My brow furrowed in confusion as he led us all the way through the office and to a large window. I didn't understand what he was doing and why he would want me to have closure.

His hand reached out and he flipped the latch on the window lock. As he pushed open the large glass panes, wind rushed into the room and the curtains billowed around us. Stefan turned to me with an expectant look in his eyes.

"Step up on the edge, Elena," he said calmly.

My eyes grew wide and I looked out the window and back to him. "What?" I gasped, my hand reaching up to hold the edge of the window tightly.

Stefan rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Once again, I'm guessing you can't figure things out on your own." He looked to me pointedly. "How did you think this would end, Elena? I can't let you go back downstairs. Not with what you know. But we're in a house full of police officers. How would that look if they found me in a room with your dead body?" He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly, almost in pity. "No, I will be so sorry when I have to inform my brother that I couldn't stop you. I tried," he sighed and opened his eyes. "I _really_ did try. But you were too disgusted with yourself. You knew you didn't belong here… you didn't belong anywhere. And you just couldn't face any more judgment. And of course you didn't want Damon to face any judgment. So when you decided to jump, I was just too far across the room to stop you. Such a waste of such a pretty girl." He let out a deep breath through his nose and shrugged again. "But life will go on."

My mouth fell open as I stared at him in bewilderment. He was going to stage my suicide.

And as understanding of his plan fell on me, only one face entered my mind.

Damon.

He would think I killed myself. I had already tried once, what would make him believe I wouldn't do it a second time?

It was going to kill him. He had already been through this once with Katherine.

"Please…" I whispered, resorting to begging. "Don't, Stefan."

He shook his head slightly and it almost seemed as if he were growing bored with the situation. "Do I need to remind you once more who will suffer for your mistakes?" he questioned, reminding me of the people he threatened. "Step up, Elena. Now."

I looked down at the edge of the window and stifled a whimper as my vision blurred with new tears. This was really happening. I was going to die.

With shaking limbs, I lifted my foot and placed the toes of my heel precariously on the edge of the window. Stefan's hand was placed on my back to steady me and my fingers grew white from the death grip I had on the sides of the wooden frame. Slowly, I lifted the next foot and stared out at the vast, green lands surrounding the mansions property. I was too afraid to look down and acknowledge my grave.

"Whenever you're ready," I heard Stefan suggest coldly behind me.

My fingers held on even tighter at his words, my body too afraid to make the jump. "I… I c-can't…" I stuttered back at Stefan, my chest heaving with sobs. I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to leave Damon yet.

"Then I'll help," he offered and I swear I heard a yawn in his sentence. "Nod when you're ready."

I closed my eyes and began taking deeper breaths, trying to savor the last moments I would be able to do something as simple as breath.

This was going to happen. And I never said goodbye to Damon.

_I love you_. The thought suddenly rang loudly in my mind and I wished with all of my heart that Damon could hear me. _I love you. I love you. _

_And I'm sorry. _

I exhaled softly and like waves rolling off my skin, the thoughts were washed away. I opened my eyes and blinked away the last of the tears, a new kind of peace settling over me with the thought of my apology.

Maybe this was what I needed.

I was tired of hating myself.

I was tired of hurting others.

I was tired of not feeling good enough.

Just like Stefan had said.

I didn't belong here.

I didn't belong anywhere.

It was time.

And I was ready.

Just as Stefan had requested, I nodded and slowly released my fingers from the frame. I felt his hand tighten on the back of my dress as I lowered my arms to my side.

"Goodbye, Elena," Stefan whispered next to me and just as I felt the fingers in his hand flex, I heard the bang of a door opening.

In the next few seconds, everything happened in slow motion.

My head whipped around and my eyes found the man that meant everything to me.

I heard Stefan yell, "Elena, no!" as he moved into me and instead of grabbing me, pushed me forward.

My toes slipped off the edge and I saw Damon's eyes go wide, his mouth opening to yell out. I hoped that he could see all of the love I held for him in my eyes.

As the air wrapped around my body and I became weightless, the images they always talk about flashed behind my eyes.

My father. And his hearty laugh every morning.

My mother. And her unconditional love for us children.

My brother. And the carefree way he played.

Damon. And the way his ice blue eyes shined in the light. The way his lips curled into the most perfect smile. The way his dark hair fell into his face. The way he kissed me.

I thanked God for letting me see him one last time.

And I fell.

* * *

**A/N:** I know, I know, you're all angry that it took me so long to update. Lower the pitchforks. Lol.

I had a bit of writers block that was very, very difficult to overcome. So I started writing pieces here and there. And then, the most ridiculous thing happened: I was robbed at work. Some of you already know this through twitter (and thank you for checking on me) but I found that after going through that, it was so, so, soooo difficult to write about being scared because I was suddenly drawing from experience and not just creating the moment in my head. It is seriously scary shit. No lie. But then the detectives called me today and they caught the bastards! Let me tell you, that's such the greatest feeling of relief. I've been restless and high-strung ever since it happened; so scared they would return. But now those feelings are gone and I was finally able to face writing this chapter.

Anyway, review and let me know how much you hate Stefan.

See you guys next chapter. :)


	19. Truth

I breathed in deeply, a lovely, familiar fragrance of lavender and vanilla filling my nostrils. I could feel light bathing my body and it took me a moment to adjust to the brightness once I finally opened my eyes.

Smiling, I stood up from the soft bed of grass and flowers that I was laying in and took in my surroundings.

The quiet meadow that stretched out around me was awe-inspiring. The colors decorating the grass and flowers and sky were the most beautiful I'd ever seen, and they each seemed to sparkle as the light that came from nowhere shone against them. A soft breeze caressed my body, once more churning up the scents that I had grown up with, yet the wind did not seem to disturb any of the peaceful blades of grass or flower petals as it flowed. It seemed to only touch my skin, warming and cooling me simultaneously.

I breathed a little deeper and my muscles relaxed in my body.

I had never been to this place before, yet I felt that I knew it so well.

It was peace.

It was joy.

It was safety.

It was home.

A hand softly touched my shoulder and my smile grew, already knowing she was there. I turned around and her hand lifted to touch my cheek. I tilted my head into her palm and sighed.

"Hi, Momma."

"Hi, baby girl," she responded, a smile on her lips and love shining in her eyes. She was exactly as I remembered her – beautiful.

"I miss you," I told her, reaching up and placing my hand on top of hers. She laced our fingers together and pulled down our hands between us.

"I know you do, sweetheart."

As I stared up at her, a heaviness began to fill my chest; a disjointing feeling when compared to my surroundings.

"I'm finally with you," I whispered, but as her smile softened and her head shook slowly, the heaviness inside me grew.

"No, baby, not yet."

My brow furrowed and the brilliant light that had first greeted me began to dim.

"Why?" I asked quietly.

She squeezed my hands softly. "Elena, the world's not done with you, and you're not finished with it. One day we'll be together, but not today."

I could feel moisture gathering in my eyes and I wondered how I could cry in such a stunning place. I didn't want to leave her again.

"I don't want to go back," I confided, the first tear slipping down my cheek. "I'm all alone there."

She tsked me with a slight shake of her head. "No you're not, baby. _He's_ there. And he loves you."

Darkness began to creep around the edges of the meadow as the light continued to fade. "But what about you?" I asked, desperation setting in as I watched the dark approach.

"I'll be here when it's time," she smiled, her hand once again reaching up to my cheek. "And so will Daddy and Jeremy. But for now, you belong there. With him."

I closed my eyes and nodded against her hand, several more tears rolling down my face as her words rang true. I knew she was right. I wasn't ready to stay. "I love you."

"Elena, I will _always_ love you," she replied, and as the airiness in her words reached my ears, my eyes flew open. She was gone.

I spun where I stood, trying to find her, but I already felt the lack of her presence. I knew I wouldn't see her again.

Only a small portion of the meadow was still visible to my eyes as the darkness closed in. I wiped at my face, removing a few lingering tears, and took in a deep breath. Her smell once again filled my nose and that was all it took to comfort me.

Closing my eyes, I waited for the darkness to engulf me.

…..

The last time I woke, I was met with my mothers' perfect aroma. This time I was met with the sterile stench of cleaning supplies and medication. There was no quiet breeze that sang serenity to me, just an obnoxiously loud beeping monitoring my heart. There was no feeling of peace or joy or safety inside my body… I actually wasn't sure that I could feel anything at all.

The only thing that was remotely similar was the blinding light that dilated my pupils when my eyes slowly cracked open. This light, however, was not beautiful and did not sparkle. It was harsh and not nearly as clear and I could hear the hum of it overhead.

When my eyes finally adjusted, I attempted to stand, just like I had in the meadow. Immediately my body was stricken with severe pain, stemming from the center of my back and expanding through my limbs. My head jerked back and my mouth fell open, a strangled half moan, half cry pouring from my lips. My muscles tensed and my whole body went stiff. Black spots filled my eyes and I found myself suddenly blind.

The beeping on the monitor sped up and I felt hands suddenly caressing my face.

"Elena? Elena! Someone help!"

His worried voice met my ears and immediately the tenseness dissipated, my body falling slack against the soft surface beneath me. The spots slowly left my vision and the room came into view.

Pings of pain continued to hit me randomly, aftershocks from trying get up. I let my eyes roam to the person holding my face and I blinked several times, afraid that I was just imagining his presence.

"_He loves you,"_ my mothers' words sounded in my mind again.

He loves me.

Damon loves me.

And him standing here beside me, showing worry in his eyes, proved that much. I don't know why I ever doubted it. He never suggested otherwise. My mind would always conjure up reasons on its own and they were never justified. He loved me.

And I loved him.

He deserved to know.

"Elena? Love, can you hear me?" he asked, panic obvious in his tone. I hadn't realized he'd been talking to me. His fingers stroked softly across my face as I stared up at him. "Can you hear me, sweetheart?" he repeated.

"I love you," I responded, but it came out barely louder than a broken whisper. I found my throat was dry and I couldn't tell for sure or not, but it seemed as though my tongue was swollen and heavy in my mouth.

Although the words were not loud, I could tell he had heard them. His fingers stilled and an intensity filled his eyes as he held my gaze. I saw him release a shaky breath before leaning forward and softly placing his lips against my temple.

"I love you, too, Elena," he said softly against my skin, and I could hear relief filling his voice. "I love you so much. So, so much," he repeated as he continued to plant soft kisses.

The peace, the joy, the safety that I had felt near my mother settled back in my body, only now it was being provided by Damon.

A small smile turned the corner of my lips and I relaxed back into the bed. I suddenly felt exhausted and completely spent. I closed my eyes and focused on the feeling of his hands on my skin.

"Don't leave me," I whispered, feeling the darkness sneaking over me again.

"I'll be here, baby. Always."

And with those words, I sank back under.

…..

"How is she?"

"She's stable."

"Has she woken?"

"Once."

"Did you get a statement?"

"Not now, Stefan."

As my consciousness slowly soaked in the words being spoken, a sick feeling crept into my stomach and I worked to keep the bile from rising.

"The next time she wakes up, then?"

"Look. We'll get it once she's had time to recover a bit. I'm not going to do anything that'll cause her stress."

"Oh yeah, um… right. I get it. Sure."

My skin tingled as memories of the gala flooded my mind. My statement? What would I say to Damon? Could I tell him the truth? Would he even believe me?

I breathed deeply through my nose a few times before I finally tempted opening my eyes.

Damon was sitting in the hospital chair in the corner, his face tired and his hair more disheveled than normal.

Stefan stood by the window, casually leaning against the pane and staring out.

Damon's eyes traveled to mine and once he saw I was awake, he jumped from his chair and rushed over to me. "Hi, baby," he greeted, his hands smoothing back my hair. "I'm sorry. We didn't mean to wake you."

I looked over at Stefan and was met with his chilling glare.

"Make him leave," I whispered, and though I feared his later retribution, I didn't want him there.

Damon's brow furrowed slightly. "Stefan?" he asked and I nodded. Damon turned back to his brother. "Hey, man, can you give us some privacy?"

Stefan hesitated, his eyes holding mine a few beats longer, before shoving off the wall. "Yeah, sure. I guess I'll head out for some dinner. Want something?"

"No. Thanks anyway," Damon responded, lifting his brows slightly as Stefan hung around a few moments longer, prolonging his exit.

Stefan nodded slightly and looked away from us. "Alright. I'll see you later, then," he said, finally pushing open the door and leaving.

My body relaxed with his departure and I looked back to Damon. "Thank you," I croaked, my throat still dry. Damon simply nodded and reached over for a glass by the bed, lifting the straw to my lips. The water that moistened my tongue tasted stagnant and old. I cringed slightly.

"How are you feeling?" Damon asked softly, lowering the glass away from my mouth.

I thought about his question for a moment, trying to take stock of my body. "I… don't know," I finally answered, realizing that I couldn't feel much of anything. Slowly, I placed my elbows against the mattress and tried to push up. Immediately Damon's hands went to my shoulders, gently, yet firmly pushing me back down.

"No, no, love. I don't think you should move before the doctor gets the chance to come in and talk to you."

My brow pulled together in confusion. "Why?"

Slowly, Damon sat down beside me on the bed, suddenly seeming nervous and uncomfortable. He reached out and pressed the intercom button, taking one of my hands into both of his.

A beep sounded in the room. "Yes?" a woman's voice asked.

"Elena's awake," Damon answered.

"We'll send the doctor," came a reply and another beep.

Damon looked back at me and I saw that his normally clear blue eyes were troubled. The sight scared me and the heart monitor relayed that emotion to the room.

"What's going on, Damon?" I asked quietly, afraid of the answer he might give me.

He didn't have the opportunity to reply before the door opened and soft soled shoes squeaked against the marble floors as they entered. I looked over to the woman wearing bright teal nursing scrubs, trimmed in lime green that was coming into the room. She was short and didn't appear to be very old, probably just out of school. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun and she held a clipboard in her hands. She looked up to me, a smile on her face.

"Hi, Elena. I'm Anna," she greeted me.

"You're my doctor?" was my first question. She definitely didn't appear to be old enough.

She laughed softly. "No, I'm actually the hospital's physical therapist. I just happened to be at the front desk when you called. Your doctor is Dr. Emily Bennett. She'll be here shortly."

Once again I was overcome with confusion. "Physical therapist?"

The door opened again and a second woman entered, one who I assumed was Dr. Bennett. She was a middle-aged woman with bright eyes and a gentle smile. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she wore deep blue scrubs and a thin white lab coat. She was holding a manila folder under her arm and a small plastic box in her hands.

"Hello, Elena," she smiled, pulling up a rolling stool beside my bed.

"Hi," I responded, watching Damon as he moved away from the bed and back over to the corner.

"How are you feeling this morning?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I was tired of being asked that question. "I really don't know," I repeated my earlier statement.

She nodded to herself, opening the small box. My eyes widened as I saw the tips of twenty different needles exposed inside. She sat the box on the tray beside the bed, then reached for the remote control to raise the bed. As the part of the mattress under my torso lifted, I was finally able to see down the length of my body.

My stomach rolled at the sight.

My left arm had all types of needles stuck into my wrist and the bend of my elbow. Small round pads were placed nearby and I saw the chords extended beneath my hospital gown. A blanket was thrown across my stomach, but both of my legs were exposed. My right leg was in a cast and was being supported by several pillows. My left leg was slightly swollen at the knee and at the ankle.

But the thing that really got me was the bruises. They were _everywhere._ Big, small, dark, light, blue, purple, red, and yellow bruises decorated my skin at every inch.

The beeping heart monitor near my head pounded against my eardrums as it sped up and I closed my eyes. "Can we mute that?" I asked the doctor. Shortly after, the beeping stopped and I found it easier to breath. I didn't want to have small talk with the doctor, I just wanted to know the worst of it. "How badly am I hurt?" I asked outright.

"Well, we're not entirely sure yet," she replied. I heard the needles in the box rattle as they were being moved and I kept my eyes closed, not wanting to know where they were about to be placed.

"Tell me when you feel this, okay?" Dr. Bennett requested and I nodded. "Do you feel this?" she asked and I waited for the pain. Several seconds passed and I was still waiting for her to do something. "Elena?" she finally asked and I let my eyes open, confused about what I was supposed to be doing.

I was met with her eyes and I saw the same worry that had been in Damon's. I traveled down the length of her arm to where her hand was at the base of my left leg and my mouth fell open as I saw the needle sticking from the side of my foot.

She pulled the needle out. "Let's try this again," she suggested and moved the needle to my calf. I watched as the tip of the needle slowly pierced my skin and waited for the sting… but it never came.

"What… the… fuck," I whispered, suddenly finding it difficult to draw air into my lungs.

She removed the needle and we played the "do-you-feel-this" game several more times, up the length of my leg. Then she placed the needle into any visible skin on my casted leg.

Nothing. At all.

I looked over to Damon, panic strangling my nerves. His eyes were downcast, his arms hugging his body. I looked back to the doctor and she was writing things down on the pages in the folder. Anna was doing the same on her clipboard.

I tried to push up with my elbows again, but my arms were trembling and my muscles were sore and weak. I fought down the scream building in my chest and found that patience was not befitting me at the moment. "I need to know what the hell is going on," I said as sternly as I could with a tired and frail sounding voice.

Dr. Bennett looked up from her papers and sighed. "Elena, do you remember the fall?"

I nodded. I remembered it all too well. I remembered the look in Damon's eyes. I remembered the feel of Stefan's arms shoving me out. I remembered the wind rushing past me as I headed for the ground.

"Well, during your fall, there wasn't a lot of distance between your body and the wall, and your legs hit against it pretty hard. In your right leg you broke the fibula and cracked the tibia. You have some deep bruising and swelling in the parts of your left leg that hit, like the rounded part of your knee and ankle. As far as we've been able to tell, the upper part of your body is fine besides obvious bruising. Nothing is broken in your torso and no tests showed any serious brain damage." She smiled softly as if that news was supposed to make me feel better. She still hadn't answered my question, though.

"Why can't I feel the needles?"

Her lips pressed into a tight line for a moment and she glanced down at her sheet, then back at me. "As I already stated, nothing is broken and nothing is severed. However, your back took the brunt of your impact. We believe that this shocked your spinal chord." She looked back down at my legs. "Could you do me a favor and try moving your toes?" she asked.

I looked down at the toes of my left leg and I tried moving them, just as I always had.

Nothing happened.

I looked back to the doctor, my eyes wide. "I'm paralyzed?" I gasped.

She began writing on her papers again. "Now, we believe that you have a wonderful chance of recovery. As we already stated, there's no proof of serious, permanent damage. That's why we believe it's just a shock. With some work and time, we honestly think you'll be just fine. That's why Anna's here."

"As soon as you're feeling better, Elena," Anna chimed in, "we'll start your therapy. I promise to make you good as new. Sound okay?"

I stared between her pleasant grin and Dr. Bennett's and wondered how they could be so cheery. None of this sounded good to me. I couldn't fucking move my legs. I couldn't fucking feel. I was bruised to hell and there was a madman still set out to kill me. None of this was okay.

I closed my eyes and leaned back into the pillow. I didn't want to respond. I didn't want to think. I just wanted to be alone.

Dr. Bennett must have felt my stress as I heard her stand. "Elena, Anna and I are gonna' discuss some possible times to start your therapy. Now that you're awake, I'm increasing the dosage of pain medication coming through your IV. If you need anything, press the call button and someone will be right down, okay?"

I simply nodded, too drained and too achy to do much more.

After several minutes, I heard both pair of tennis shoes walk out of the room, then the mattress beside me moved as weight was placed on it. I felt his fingers running softly through my hair and immediately tears found their way to my eyes.

I felt Damon maneuver himself so that he was laying lengthwise on my left. Gently, he pulled me into his arms and I tucked myself against his chest, finally allowing myself to feel the gravity of the situation.

This was really happening.

I was really fucking paralyzed.

….

It didn't take long for me to cry myself to sleep again. I had already grown so tired from being awake as long as I had been. When I woke again, Damon was no longer by my side and I was not at all surprised to find my next visitor sitting patiently in the corner chair.

"Hi, Elena," Bonnie smiled softly.

I rolled my head to the side to see if the old water was still there and Bonnie followed my movement. The glass was gone, but it had been replaced with a plastic cup that had a lid and straw. Quickly, she came to my side and handed me the cup. Lifting it to my mouth was like bench-pressing a hundred pounds. My hands shook and guiding the straw to my lips was difficult. Bonnie assisted and took the cup away from me once I pulled away from the straw.

"How are you?" she asked gently, walking back to her chair.

I shrugged and closed my eyes again, already feeling tired from just holding the cup.

"You can imagine my surprise when we got the news that you jumped," she said suddenly, and something in her tone made me open my eyes and look at her. She tilted her head slightly to the side and cocked a perfectly arched brow. "It's not something we anticipated…" she started slowly, and I suddenly realized she was waiting for me to deny the jump.

"You don't think I did it," I stated quietly, feeling something akin to hope building in my stomach. Maybe I wouldn't have to convince everyone I hadn't jumped. Maybe they already knew.

She crossed her legs at the knee and laced her fingers together on top. She looked at me pointedly and shrugged. "It just seems odd. When most suicidal people jump from a building, they leap out. They're embracing their end and they want to feel the weight of everything being released. I've never seen a case where they've stepped out and they're so close to the building that they practically rub against it on the way down."

I looked down at my body and took in the scrapes and cuts near the bruises on my legs. I couldn't remember hitting the wall. I only remember thinking about Damon as I fell.

"Want to tell me what happened, Elena?"

I looked back to her and sighed. "I don't know if I can," I answered honestly. How was I supposed to tell them Stefan had pushed me? That he had killed my family and stolen some stupid egg that was now being displayed in Elijah's home. How would they ever believe me?

"Is someone stopping you?" she questioned. Her tone indicated she already knew someone was.

I bit down on my lower lip and struggled with how to reply. What would happen if I told her the truth? Would the people I love still be threatened by Stefan? Would she think I was crazy and decide maybe I had jumped? What would Damon say when he found out? Would _he_ think I was crazy?

I shook my head slightly to dispel the thoughts.

I needed to do this. Consequences be damned.

"Stefan pushed me." The words came out softer and more timid than I had intended, but I knew they were loud enough for Bonnie to hear.

She stared at me for several moments, her face portraying neither surprise nor doubt. Finally, she nodded once to herself and stood.

"Elena, I'll be back," she said simply and I felt the panic return.

"Where are you going?" I asked quickly, afraid to be left alone.

She didn't respond as she walked out the door.

My heart hammered in my chest. What was going to happen now that those words had been spoken aloud? Would Stefan come for me again? Would he go for Ric or Matt? A chill ran through me and I almost wished I'd had never told her.

Abruptly, the door to the room slammed open, banging loudly against the concrete wall and causing me to jump in surprise. Damon brusquely walked to the side of my bed and knelt down on his knees, grabbing my hands in his. His eyes were pained and I could feel his body shaking.

"Is it true?" he asked sternly, making it obvious he was in no position to be lied to.

My body tensed and I felt tears once again in my eyes. Tightly, I nodded my head.

His lips parted slightly and the look in his eyes went from pained to shocked to angry in a matter of seconds. I watched as the muscles in his jaw tightened and his icy eyes darkened.

He released my hands and I instantly missed the contact, wanting to keep him beside me. He backed away from the bed, his hands balled into fists at his side.

"Damon…" I started slowly, "I'm sorry."

He looked down at me and I watched as determination set in his eyes. Quickly, he walked over to me and kissed my forehead. "I love you, Elena," he whispered, his voice full of conviction.

My stomach sank with the sound of his voice. "Damon, where are you going?"

He pulled away from my forehead and caught my lips with his own. His hands held onto the sides of my face as he molded our lips together, tilting my head to deepen the kiss. When he moved back, I was panting for air and much more full of fear.

"I love you," he repeated before releasing my face and heading for the door.

Dread coursed through my body as he crossed the room. "Damon? Damon, where are you going?" I shouted after him, internally begging for him to stop and turn around.

He didn't.

And when the door closed with a click, I knew this was the end of something.

* * *

**A/N:** Yay for summer classes ending! Boo for tonsillectomy's on Monday. Not sure when the next chapter will be out, but I'm going to do my best to make it soon.

See you guys next chapter!


	20. Enemy

As I walked down the length of the hospital parking garage, I walked with purpose. I was going to find him.

And I was going to kill him.

There was no rationalizing my decision. The second Elena nodded her head, my vision was clouded with red and Stefan was no longer my brother.

He was the enemy.

I hadn't prepared myself to face the idea that what Bonnie had suggested might actually be true. I had been so fucking blind. So ignorant. So _trusting_.

...

_Elena lied in the hospital bed, her silky hair fanned out around her petite frame. As I stood next to the mattress, staring down at her, my heart began to break. She looked so fragile. Bruises and cuts covered all parts of her exposed skin. I was afraid to know what the skin beneath the cast looked like. The needles were shoved into her arms and the monitor beeping along with her heartbeats was slow… too slow. _

_When I had first arrived at the hospital and the doctors explained the extent of her injuries, they had told me they were worried there had been significant nerve damage in her back. They were afraid she wouldn't be able to walk. _

_I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, not allowing myself to linger on that thought for too long. It was going to drive me crazy._

_Slowly, I reached down and ran my fingers down the side of her face. I just wanted her to open her eyes. I wanted to take her pain away. I wanted to heal every inch of her, even if that meant bringing it onto myself._

_I was so in love with her. Without her, I was nothing. _

_The door to the room slowly opened and I turned to see Bonnie entering. She smiled softly, then looked to Elena and back to me._

"_Still asleep," I answered her silent question._

_She nodded once and walked over to the chair in the corner. "Have you left at all?"_

_I turned back to the bed and looked down at Elena, shaking my head. "Not until she wakes up."_

"_Damon, it's been 22 hours. You need to get some rest."_

"_Not until she wakes up," I repeated._

"_You standing there isn't going to help her wake any faster. And you're doing no one favors by wearing yourself so thin."_

_I ignored her comments and focused on Elena. "I don't understand why she's not waking up," I whispered mostly to myself. The doctors had said they expected her to make a full recovery. All the tests pointed in that direction. But like Bonnie said, she'd been out for nearly an entire day. That must mean something more is wrong. _

_I felt a hand touch my back softly and I glanced over my shoulder to see Bonnie standing next to me. "She'll wake up, Damon," she told me gently. "You just have to trust that she will."_

_I said nothing and once again caressed Elena's cheek. _

_Bonnie's hand left my back, but she didn't seem to be leaving. I could feel her presence for several minutes before I turned back to her. She was standing with her hands folded in front of her, her eyes downcast. She was shifting her weight between each foot and seemed slightly uncomfortable._

"_Bonnie, what's wrong?" I asked, worried she knew something more about Elena than she was telling me._

_Her eyes met mine and I saw conflict warring within her. _

"_I… There was… I needed to…" she stopped and let out a deep breath, looking back down at the ground. Bonnie was never one to be short for words and her indecisiveness on how to start her sentence was frightening me even more._

"_What do you know, Bonnie?" I asked slowly, finally turning from the bed to look at her directly. _

_She took another deep inhale before making eye contact and beginning again. "I didn't exactly come down here just to see Elena. I'm really no good to her while she sleeps. I came here to see you."_

_My brow furrowed slightly. "Okay…" I trailed off. I didn't understand why she would need to see me._

_Bonnie hesitated for several more moments before continuing. "I don't think Elena jumped," she finally blurted._

_My muscles tensed and I felt my blood run cold at the mention of Elena's suicide attempt. I had definitely not allowed myself to think too much about that. _

_When Stefan had explained to me what Elena had been saying before she jumped – how she didn't feel good enough to be with me, how she hated herself – I immediately blamed myself. I should have been able to stop this. I should have recognized the signs and helped._

_I had already failed Katherine._

_Now I had failed Elena._

_The thoughts only served to remind me that she still hadn't waken. And if it turned out that she never would, my life would be over._

"_Damon?" Bonnie spoke up, bringing my attention back to her. "Did you hear what I said?"_

_I shook my head slightly. I had heard her, but then I wasn't sure I had heard her correctly. _

"_I don't think Elena tried to kill herself," she stated again, but this time with more strength. _

_I looked back to Elena, sorrow flooding me. "Bonnie, I was there. I saw it." I closed my eyes and tried to fight back the images attempting to rise – Elena standing on the edge of the window pane, her purple gown fluttering around her from the wind entering the open window; Her deep brown eyes as she turned and saw me enter; The helplessness and hopelessness within those eyes; Stefan reaching out to grab her back; Her body falling over the ledge. Those moments seemed to be engrained in my mind. They would haunt me forever. _

_Several minutes passed before Bonnie spoke again. "Are you sure you saw the events accurately?" she finally asked, her skeptical tone aggravating me._

_I looked back at her. "Yes," I replied firmly. _

_She shook her head and hugged her arms around her torso. "It just doesn't make sense. The doctors have indicated she hit the wall on the way down. People that jump don't jump close enough to hit the wall."_

"_What are you suggesting?" I asked, feeling myself getting defensive. _

_Her eyes held my gaze strongly as she answered. "I believe she was pushed."_

_A humorless bark of a laugh escaped me. "Bonnie, I was there!" I repeated. "There was no one even near her but Stefan!"_

_She didn't speak, but her eyes never left mine, one of her brows arching slightly. Her lips pressed into a tight line and disbelief slammed into me as I realized what she was suggesting. _

"_You think _Stefan_ pushed_ _her?" I asked in incredulity. _

_She looked down at Elena and shrugged slightly. "Damon, during several of the sessions I had with Elena, she had some pretty disturbing stories to tell about Stefan's treatment towards her."_

_I just stared at Bonnie, not even remotely able to wrap my mind around what she was saying. "I know my brother, Bonnie," I stated confidently. "He had nothing to do with this. If anything, I wish he'd gotten there a few seconds earlier so he could've stopped her!"_

"_You know, it's difficult to say we truly know people, Damon. Everyone has secrets that other people, even those that are closest to them, know nothing about. It isn't fair to you or to Elena to not consider the possibility…"_

"_There is no possibility!" I interrupted her. "I saw it, Bonnie! I saw Stefan try to stop her!"_

"_In times of crisis, our minds often form a different version of reality to protect ourselves from…" _

"_Don't," I stopped her, shaking my head and stepping back. "Don't start with that psychiatric bullshit on me, Bonnie."_

"_Damon, we both know what you went through before!" she argued back. "We both know about what happened with Katherine. You can't accept the idea that Stefan may have been responsible for this because you want to believe that someone, even if it wasn't you, was there to save Elena. You feel guilty because you weren't there, just like you did with Katherine. You want so desperately to believe that Stefan was there to help her that you can't face a different possibility." _

"_This is bullshit, Bonnie. I know what I saw. And I know Stefan." _

_I could see in Bonnie's expression that she had grown angry at my denying her accusation. The entire thing was ridiculous and the last thing I needed was for her to start problems where they weren't warranted. _

_Before Bonnie had worked at the facility, she had run her own therapy practice. After Katherine's death, I had been a patient of hers. It was because of the help I found in her that I chose that specific facility to take Elena to. I knew she would find the help she needed in Bonnie. But for Bonnie to bring up our past sessions and try to apply it to this situation was beyond absurd._

"_Damon…" she started slowly, her eyes pleading._

"_You need to leave," I cut her off. I was tired of her and her ludicrous statements. I needed to focus my energy on Elena, nothing else. _

"_Fine," she finally yielded. "I'll be back when she's awake." And with that, Bonnie left the room._

_...  
_

My hands shook as I reached into my pocket for my keys. I fumbled with the ring, searching for the key to unlock the car.

"Damon!" I suddenly heard shouted behind me.

I glanced quickly and saw Bonnie running after me. Her appearance didn't deter me. I shoved the key into the lock and twisted.

"Damon, wait!" Bonnie yelled as she got closer.

I spun around, in no mood or position to be talked down. "What?" I challenged back fiercely.

Her breath was leaving her in gasps as she stopped in front of me, obviously winded from her sprint after me. "Where are you going?" she asked, her eyes looking up at me with fear and worry. They mirrored Elena's when I had left.

"Bonnie, you need to go," I suggested, turning back around to get in my car.

Before I could open the door, she wedged herself in between it and myself. I would never in my life hit a girl, but Bonnie was putting herself in a very dangerous position.

"Move," I commanded forcefully.

She held up her hands. "You're going to find Stefan?" she asked, but I could tell she already knew the answer. "What will you do when you find him?"

I could feel my lips wanting to twist into a sinister smirk. She definitely didn't want to know what I was going to do when I found him.

She must have recognized the look in my eyes because she shook her head quickly. "Damon, you can't."

"Oh, yes," I countered. "I can. And I am. Now get the fuck out of the way."

I reached out to push her aside when she said the only words that could have possibly stopped me, "Think about Elena. Think of how you'll be leaving her alone."

I froze and stared down at her. She took advantage my moment of hesitation to continue. "If you hurt or kill Stefan, you're going to go prison, Damon. No one will be able to stop that. And when you do, Elena will be here without you. Without anyone to protect her from the world… or worse, from herself. She needs you, Damon."

Although I had been so set on my goal, on where I was heading and I what I was going to do, it only took those simple words to break down my will.

She was right.

I couldn't leave Elena.

I would _never _leave Elena without protection again.

My hand fell to my side and I released a shaky breath, the rage inside me rolling off my skin in waves.

I was suddenly met with a feeling I didn't often feel: weakness.

"What do I do?" I finally asked, looking back up to Bonnie.

I watched her body relax as she realized her words broke through and she looked up at me with determination.

"He won't go unpunished, Damon," she said steadfastly. "We'll just have to be careful about it. We have to have a plan."

...

My legs felt heavy as I walked back into Elena's hospital room. Her eyes grew wide as she saw me and I saw relief wash over her.

"Damon! Shit! Oh my god, I was so fucking worried!"

My lips turned slightly into a small smile. I was amused to find her language hadn't improved throughout all of this.

I pulled over the doctors stool and sat down beside her mattress. She still wasn't able to push herself up or move very much, so I reached over and took one of her hands in both of mine.

"I'm sorry I scared you," I murmured, leaning down to kiss each of her fingers. Just being in her presence had calmed me drastically and I was starting to think more clearly.

Her hand tightened around mine and I looked back up at her. I was surprised to find tears in her eyes, just near pouring out. "Elena, what's wrong?" I asked quickly, moving up to sit on the mattress, caressing both sides of her face gently.

"You hate me," she barely whispered, her eyes closing tight as the tears finally slipped down her cheeks.

My brow furrowed in confusion. "What? No…No, love. Why would you think that?"

"Because of what I told you," she answered, keeping her eyes closed. "About Stefan."

I shook my head and pulled her body up against mine. "No, Elena. I _love_ you, baby. I fucking love you so much. Nothing's changed."

Her head turned up against my chest and I looked down into her teary eyes.

I had always known that I loved Elena. I knew before she even really knew me at all. Despite all her flaws and the things she struggled with, she was everything I needed. I had known I couldn't admit that, however, until she was ready. And when she opened her eyes, finally waking and bringing light back into my world, she said the words that I had felt for months. She loved me. And because she was ready, I said it back, meaning it with my entire soul. I loved her. I would always love her.

"Do you blame me?" she asked timidly, more glistening pools of water cascading over her lower lashes.

I leaned down and kissed her forehead, those words tearing into me like a knife. "No, Elena. This wasn't your fault." The thought of her thinking that this was her fault only acted to ignite the fury inside me once more. It was difficult not to leave for Stefan again.

But Bonnie was right. We needed a plan. We had to calculate our actions and guarantee we wouldn't be caught. To make sure that would happen, though, I needed to know everything.

With a deep sigh and a reluctance to let her go, I slowly lowered Elena back down to her pillow.

Staring down into her eyes, I prepared myself for whatever she would have to say.

"Love, none of this was your fault," I repeated. "Don't ever think that. But for us to handle this situation, I need you to tell me everything... Just start from the beginning."

Elena looked down at the sheets stretched across her body and I saw her trepidation. I slowly ran my thumbs across the backs of her hands, hoping that I was showing her that I was here for her and only her. I would support her no matter what.

With a deep breath, Elena began recounting the hell she had been faced with.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I would learn.

* * *

**A/N:** Sooooo... yeah... Hey, guys... O.O Sorry it's been so long. That tonsillectomy... yeah, it was all kinds of hell and torture. Wouldn't wish that on even my worst enemy. And then of course the fall semester is upon us. Yay. :/ But this is my final year of college, so I guess it's understandable it's taking a bit more of a toll on me than previous semesters. I'm determined to stick with this story, though, until the very end. No matter how many papers I have to blow off to make that happen... No one cares about 'Agamemnon' anyway. Lol

But to those of you still out there, thanks for hanging in there with me.

And to those who follow me on Tumblr and gave suggestions for getting past writers block/lack of inspiration, I appreciate it more than you can believe. Those responses are absolutely what got this chapter out. (And if you're not following me on Tumblr: aphobiac(dot)tumblr(dot)com. )

See you guys next chapter!


	21. Curl

_Click. Clack. Click. Clack._

I took in a deep breath as I stared blankly at the pendulum sitting on the mantel, the metal balls clacking back and forth. For some reason, I found the motion of them saddening. The two balls on either end were the only ones that really got some real movement. The three balls in the middle, however, were stuck there. Sure, they rattled between themselves a bit, but they didn't get to fly out like the other two. They were trapped. They would never have the chance to swing at their full potential.

I felt almost as though the whole set represented me. A progression of who I was and where I'm heading.

The first ball represented my past, when I was with my family. I was carefree and happy. Then they died and I moved on to the second ball. The drugs slowed me down and I started losing that freedom.

The ball in the middle was me now. No freedom at all. I was stuck. Nearly motionless. Just like that poor metal ball. I probably wouldn't reach the end ball, the only other one that was free, until I died.

A knock on the front door broke my concentration and before I could get to it, the door pushed open.

"Elena?" Damon called out.

"In here," I responded, looking back to the pendulum.

The door closed and I heard Damon walk down the short hallway and into my living room. He came to my side and kissed my cheek. "How are you, love?"

I shrugged – a response that was becoming common with me again.

His lips pressed into a line as he nodded and went to sit on the couch.

"Have you been awake long?" he questioned.

"I never went to sleep."

"Elena," he scolded with a sigh.

I looked over to him. "I wasn't tired."

"How many times has Anna told you that your body needs proper rest for it to heal?"

I rolled my eyes. "Anna's said a lot of things, hasn't she?" I countered. "Like it wouldn't take long. And I'd be better in no time. And that if I really worked hard, I'd see the results." I snorted with a sight shake of my head. "Yeah, we see how much _Anna _really knows," I ended scornfully, waving my hand down at the wheelchair I sat in.

Damon didn't respond but I could see in his look that he didn't agree.

It had been nearly two months since I was released from the hospital after staying there for an entire 3 weeks. My 30 days of treatment with the facility had ended while I was at the hospital and because of that, I wasn't required to return to rehab upon my release. I had been planning to return regardless, however, because it was either live there or on the streets. I wasn't ready to go back to the street life just yet, what with the not being able to walk and all, so I was going to stay longer at the facility.

That was the plan until I turned 20 during the second week of my hospital stay and I was informed that my parents had left me more money than I knew what to do with. It had been indicated in their will that a portion of the funds were to be given to me at any time for a college education with the remaining funds being released on my 20th birthday, or should I not go to college, the entire amount be made available, again, on my 20th birthday.

So, I had Damon research houses in the Mystic Falls area and I found a quaint and charming 2-bedroom home just outside the city limits. I chose this particular home because it had one level, all hardwood floors, larger rooms, and wider hallways and doors. I needed all of this to get around in my lovely wheelchair.

Bonnie visited twice a week for extended therapy sessions. At first I had denied her request for more sessions, but she took it to Damon who then went and made it a legal matter. For six months, as part of my ongoing recovery, I was to meet with Bonnie on Tuesday and Thursday for at least 2 hours.

Anna came after Bonnie for 3 hours of physical therapy. I hated those sessions more than I hated the ones with Bonnie. Being with her only served to remind me that my body wasn't acting normal. The cuts and scrapes and bruises had healed with time, but my legs were still immobile and the right leg had only just gotten out of a cast. It pissed me off. Which Bonnie then made me talk about during her therapy sessions.

It was all stupid.

Damon and I hadn't approached the topic of us as a legitimate couple since my release, but I was beginning to believe it was just an unspoken agreement. He knew how I felt about him and vice versa and that seemed to be enough for us right now. There was too much crazy going on in either of our lives to muddy it up more with relationship titles and rules.

We also hadn't spoken more about Stefan since the day I told him what was going on. That made me nervous. He had simply told me that day that he would "handle it" and didn't say any more. Of course I had attempted to bring up the topic or ask questions about it, but he always avoided it somehow. I knew Stefan was still out and about, Bonnie told me that much, but she, too, seemed to know more than she was telling me when I would ask her.

"Does that sound okay?" I heard Damon ask and my eyes focused back on him, my brow furrowing.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Italian…" he started slowly. "…for dinner. I was thinking of bringing some after work. I asked if that sounded okay…"

"Oh," I responded, not realizing that the subject had changed or that he'd been talking at all. "Yeah, I guess. That sounds fine."

"And you'll actually eat it this time?" he asked pointedly, his brow raising slightly.

I huffed and rolled my eyes once more. "I guess, Damon."

"Anna said…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know what she fucking said!" I cut him off, aggravation rolling through my body.

He watched me for several moments, his eyes curious. "Elena, what's going on?" he finally asked.

"With what?" I responded with exasperation.

"With that. With the way you're acting."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I answered, moving my eyes down to the floor. Truth was, I knew exactly what he was talking about.

Although my 30 days of treatment was over, it turned out I was anything but cured. No, I hadn't gone back to heroin – that would be a little difficult to get to with the wheelchair and the eyes on me at all times – but Dr. Emily Bennett had introduced me to a new, legal little pill called Oxycodone, the miracle pain killer. It wasn't that scary of a tablet when used responsibly, but the problem was that I was an addict. Just because I had gone to rehab and revealed my secrets to a therapist and had my body cleansed didn't mean that I was "okay." The thought process of an addict wasn't like a switch, you couldn't just shut it off. It takes time, and peace, and a long period of sobriety to lead up to not thinking like an addict. I didn't get any of that, especially not with the pill practically being shoved down my throat by doctors.

It didn't take long for me to accept the medicine with open arms. Before I started taking it, I was high-strung and nervous and scared and constantly thinking about Stefan and what he had done and what he might do and how I was paralyzed. The pill, however, made all of that go away. Just like the heroin used to do with my family's death.

It was wonderful.

But there were also the downsides to the pill. I was irritable again and really honestly couldn't care less about stuff. As Damon pointed out, I didn't sleep. I didn't eat. I was starting to shut down again, physically and emotionally. A wall built back up without me even realizing it and my guard was always up. It started pushing me away from people.

It was starting to push me away from Damon.

But for some reason, no matter how much I loved Damon, I couldn't stop abusing the medicine.

I was trapped in an endless cycle that I didn't know how to stop. Part of me didn't want it to stop because if it stopped, I would be forced to face reality again. I would have to start questioning why Stefan wasn't in jail or why he was still out there. I would want to know why Damon hadn't done more. I would be consumed with the fact that I still couldn't walk and may never be able to again.

It was just easier not thinking about any of it.

Damon and I both sat in silence as the minutes ticked by. I could tell he didn't want to confront me more about my behavior. He was walking on eggshells around me, worried about upsetting me while I was in "such a fragile state," as Bonnie had said last week during a session. He finally looked down at his watch and sighed. "I've gotta' get to work."

"Okay," I nodded, looking back to the now still pendulum.

"What will you be doing today?"

"Playing soccer," I answered dryly. When I glanced at him his eyes were weary and I almost regretted my snide remark. Almost. "Bonnie is bringing Caroline over," I finally offered.

"Good," he smiled softly. "It'll be good for you to hang out with a friend."

"Even if she is crazy," I muttered.

I heard him let out another forced breath before he stood and walked over to me. I looked up at him and inwardly chastised myself for being such a bitch. He didn't deserve it.

His long fingers pushed up the sleeves of his shirt before he bent over and gently caressed the sides of my face, his eyes intense as they gazed into mine. I felt my heart stutter and I knew it wasn't the pain medicine causing it.

"Elena, no matter what, I love you," he breathed softly, his spicy scent washing over me and making me swoon. I could hardly nod as he lowered his lips to mine. He kissed me slowly, reminding me once again that I _really_ was being such a bitch to him. I didn't mean to, though. It was just a reaction.

When he finally pulled away, my heart was hammering and I'm sure if I could've felt my knees, they would've been weak. My eyes lazily opened and he chuckled. "See you tonight?"

"Mmhm," I answered, my mind not quite coherent enough to form actual words.

He quickly pecked my lips again. "I love you," he repeated.

"Love you, too," I finally responded.

As he walked past me to leave, I bent over and pulled out the little metal ball of the pendulum again and let go, watching as it started the swinging reaction once more for the other end ball.

The ball in the middle still didn't move.

…

"I like it!" Caroline gushed as she walked through my house with me rolling after her. This was her first visit to my new place. It had taken so long to get her here because she had to go through several clearance procedures to verify she was a safe option for extended outside-facility travels, meaning not just quick trips to the mall or store with Jenna. Before me, she never had anywhere else to visit so she didn't need to get the okay until now.

I half shrugged as I pushed the wheels forward. "I guess. It's spacious, which is what I obviously needed."

She walked into the dining room and stopped by the table. "It's simple, but not in a boring way. _Super _chic," she smiled.

I grinned slightly. "What do you know about _chic_, Caroline?"

"Plenty!" she retorted. "Just because I'm stuck in the most boring place _ever _doesn't mean I don't keep up with this years trends."

I laughed. "So my place is a trend? I thought it was just made to be handicapped accessible."

"Oh no," she shook her head, her eyes wide. "This place is definitely what's up."

I laughed again and started backing my chair to head back to the living room. Caroline quickly rushed up behind me and started maneuvering my chair for me. Although that typically annoyed me, my arms were still sore from a session with Anna and I was grateful for the relief.

"So, there's a new boy at the facility," Caroline said softly, almost as if she was confiding in me a secret no one should hear despite us being the only ones in the house.

I smiled before responding. Despite Caroline being a little wack-a-doo, this was why I liked her. Here she was pushing me in a wheelchair, yet she didn't feel the need to ask me about it or ask how I was feeling. In fact, she hadn't commented on any of it since she got here. To her, there were more interesting things to talk about – like the new boy in rehab.

"What's he there for?" I asked.

"Oh, you know, like ecstasy or something, but he had only just started when his parents found out and sent him straight to the facility, but, Elena, he is _so_ cute!"

Another reason why I liked Caroline – she didn't judge. "How old is he?"

"Not sure, but he looks like 18 or 19."

"Have you talked to him?"

She rolled my chair across from the couch and then sat down herself. "Well, kind of, but not really." She tugged at her lower lip with her teeth and I nearly gasped.

"You're not _shy_ are you?" The idea of Caroline being shy was absurd. She always had the first and last word in conversations and she wasn't worried about expressing herself or saying too much.

She shook her head. "No, no… I'm not shy… It's just…."

I tilted my head slightly, waiting for her to continue. "Just what?" I prodded.

I saw her cheeks redden a bit against her blonde hair before she swallowed hard and answered. "I'm just afraid I'll hurt him."

The laugh that escaped me was involuntary. The idea of Caroline hurting anyone was even more out there than her being shy. She was the size of a twig and as sweet as a freaking flower. She couldn't hurt someone even if she wanted to.

I looked to her to respond but her expression cut me short and I immediately stopped laughing. She wasn't kidding and her face indicated my reaction had hurt her.

"I'm sorry, Care, I didn't mean to laugh. It's just you're such a nice person," I told her, hoping she'd understand.

She slouched back into the couch. "I know, but I'm scared of what'll happen if we end up like hugging or something."

My brow furrowed. "What to do you mean?"

She let out a frustrated sigh. "Because I'm a vampire, Elena," she responded like the answer was obvious.

Shit. Somehow I always tended to forget that she believed that she was a vampire whenever I was talking to her. Most of the time she seemed so… _normal._ It was hard to remember that she wasn't.

I looked down to the floor and thought about how to respond. As expected, the last time I had spoken to her about her being that, Bonnie had told me it was unhealthy for her. I knew I shouldn't do it again.

"Well…" I started slowly, looking back up to her. "What if you aren't?"

"What if I wasn't what?"

"A vampire."

Her mouth popped open slightly as she gaped at me. "What do you mean by that?"

I shrugged slightly and folded my arms over my chest, quickly thinking about how to save this conversation and not hurt Caroline's feelings. "I just mean like… maybe you could pretend you weren't a vampire… for the sake of a possible relationship."

I thought Caroline would blow up at me trying to get her to kind of sort of face reality, but I was surprised when her face became pensive. "Hm… You mean like pretend I'm a human around him?"

"Yeah, sure. Something like that. I mean, how are you able to be around me and Bonnie and Jenna and the other residents without hurting us?"

Her mouth fell open again and her eyes grew wide as if she was having an epiphany. "I pretend that I'm human!" she gasped. "Whenever I'm around all of you, I remind myself how much I love you guys and how I wouldn't hurt you and I tell myself to "act normal" and I do! Oh my god, Elena! It's like if you just believe you are something, you can make it happen!" Her words got faster as she became more and more excited. "So I can just tell myself to act human around him and everything'll be okay! He doesn't even have to know I'm a vampire!"

I smiled, thinking that more research needed to be done in reverse psychology. "So you'll talk to him?"

"As soon as I get back to the facility," she nodded, her eyes bright again.

…

The rest of the visit with Caroline went well. I was surprised to find that spending time with her made me feel a bit better than I had before and lifted my mood. I looked forward to her next visit.

I was clicking through the channels on the television when the front door opened and Damon's voice rang out through the hallway.

"I'm in here," I called back, hitting the power button and turning off the TV.

I grabbed the wheels of the chair and started turning it around to face the entrance. It took me a few tries – it was always difficult to push the chair when it was already still – but when I finally turned around, I found Damon standing a few feet away from me, a bouquet of all white lilies in his hand.

I smiled and looked up at him questioningly. "What's this?"

He shrugged as he handed them to me. "I saw them in the shop next to the Italian restaurant when I picked up the food. They reminded me of you."

I looked up at him with a lifted brow. "You know lilies stand for like purity and modesty and virginity… none of which I am…"

He knelt down in front of me, his eyes soft. "All I know is that they stood out amongst all the other flowers in the window. They were the most beautiful. And so I chose them."

I could feel my chest heating with a blush as I looked away from his eyes, lifting the flowers to my nose. "They smell wonderful."

Before I could look up to him again, he removed the flowers from my hand and captured my lips with his. Unlike this morning, this kiss was deep and passionate, his hands tilting my head back for better access.

A moan rumbled up from his chest and I felt my heart skip. When he finally pulled away, we were both gasping for air.

"Are you hungry?" he mumbled, his lips seeking mine again.

I shook my head. "No."

"Good," he responded before his hands went beneath my legs and back and he lifted me from the chair, holding me close to his body as our tongues tangled.

He moved swiftly down the hallway and to my bedroom where he quickly laid me on the bed and hovered over me, his strong arms holding himself on either side of my body. His lips began to explore away from my lips and down my neck, sending chills across my skin. I felt him kiss and suck and nip at the surface as he traveled across my collarbone.

When his fingers moved and began lifting the hem of my shirt, I quickly reached down and stopped him. "Wait, Damon. Don't."

He pulled up from my skin, his breath uneven and his eyes concerned. "What, baby? Did I do something?"

I shook my head and felt tears suddenly pooling in my eyes. "No, you didn't… I just… you know, I can't…" I stopped as a single tear fell over.

I hadn't even thought about how a physical relationship would work with my condition. Damon hadn't tried anything since I had been out and I really hadn't been in the mood to try either. Now that we were here, I didn't know what to do about it. We hadn't been _together_ since that day in his office. Now what would happen if we never could again? And how would he enjoy it if I couldn't move to help him? Would he even like being with me?

He moved over to lay beside me, his hand wiping away my tear. "Elena, don't cry. Tell me what's going on."

"My legs!" I cried out, throwing one arm over my face. "I can't do this with you because… because I can't fucking move, Damon!"

He pushed my arm away and turned my head to look up at him. "Are you worried about not feeling it?" he asked softly.

I shook my head and tried to turn away, but he kept me still. "I'm… I'm worried about not satisfying you…" I finally answered, lowering my eyes from his face.

His muscles tightened and he dipped his head to catch my gaze. "Elena… I don't care if you never walk again, to be honest… And I don't care if I never have another orgasm in my fucking life… What I care about is you. And whether or not we both find some release by the end of it, I want to show you how much I love you."

I bit down on my lower lip and looked away again, his eyes too intense to hold contact with.

"Do you understand?" he asked gently.

I nodded because I did understand. I really didn't care if I came or not, either. I wanted to make love to him. I just didn't want to disappoint him.

His lips softly pressed against my cheek, causing my eyes to close slowly. I felt his soft kisses move along to my ear, then down my neck. When his hand began pushing up my shirt again, I let him, the soft grazes against my stomach making me shiver.

When the tips of his fingers moved up the curve of my breast, crossing over my nipple, I felt it harden and I gasped quietly. At least that reaction was still alive and well.

He lifted me up slightly and pulled the shirt over my head, leaving my torso naked. He moved to straddle over me again and I watched as his lips made a trail from the base of my neck down to my stomach then back up. He veered off to the side and his lips softly caressed the hardened peak, pulling it up into his moist mouth before letting his tongue reach out to flick it.

My hands immediately went up around to his back and into his hair, my nerves becoming heightened with the arousal. I licked my lips and closed my eyes, leaning my head back into my pillow as his nimble fingers began to massage and work my other nipple.

For several minutes, he had me moaning and arching my breast up into his mouth, loving the way his tongue danced along my sensitive skin. Finally, as he continued to suck the nipple, the other hand left my body and I heard his belt clinking as he undid it and his pants. I felt him shimmy above me to get them down, then he hooked onto the loose yoga pants I wore and he sat up to pull them and my panties down my body.

I watched as he moved, afraid I would miss something because I couldn't feel it. I saw him reach a hand down between my legs and then groan, looking up at me.

"You're wet," he commented with a smoldering twinkle in his eye.

A bark of a laugh escaped me. "What?" I was honestly surprised by this bit of news considering I hadn't felt anything during his assault on my breasts.

"Apparently," he smirked, slowly lowering himself down on top of me and sliding up my torso to my lips, "your body is more ready than you thought." His tongue entered my mouth and his hand went back to my breast, causing my heartbeat to speed and another soft moan to escape against his kiss.

One of my hands went to his hip and I felt as he positioned himself down, then forward. When he lifted his head and groaned out with his eyes closed, I assumed he had entered me.

"God, Elena," he muttered into the air. "You feel _perfect_."

I smiled, tightening my grip against his bare side. I was happy that he seemed to be satisfied after all.

His lips crashed back into mine as he began his movements, the bed rocking back and forth the only real indication for me that we were having sex. As he traveled back down my neck and to my breast, I focused on the sensation there of his tongue roaming against the pebbled surface. For me, that was enjoyment enough.

"Ughhh, Damon," I moaned with a slight smile. "_That_ feels perfect," I repeated his earlier sentiments.

For several moments, I just reveled in the sensations being brought to me from his mouth, my skin tingling and alert. Every now and then a deep groan would escape him and my body would light like fire.

As he kissed his way over to my other breast, a spark in my stomach caused my eyes to fly open. I looked down and saw Damon's broad shoulders holding him up, his chiseled body continuing his motion. As his hips went down, then back up again, another spark shot through me and I gasped.

"Oh my god."

Damon stopped and looked up at me, his breathing heavy. "What? What's wrong?"

I quickly shook my head. "Don't stop!"

His brow furrowed. "What?"

"Fuck me, Damon!" I nearly yelled, my nails digging into the sides of his hips.

His expression was confused and weary, but he continued thrusting again. With every upward movement, another spark would hit me somewhere and I would moan or cry out, my eyes closing. I could feel my skin heating and I begged him to go faster.

He grunted with his thrusts, concentrating on pushing himself faster and I bit down on my lower lip, feeling a familiar sensation approaching but not in a build like was typical.

His lips found my nipple once more and as he sucked hard and pushed in at the same time, I felt my body unravel, the skin across my torso and arms stinging with electricity.

"Fuck! Damon! Oh… my… Ughhhh!" I cried out, my limbs tensing and my back arching as an orgasm hit me.

As if that wasn't a miracle enough for me, I nearly began to cry when I felt my next reaction.

My toes curled.

* * *

**A/N:** ... :)

See you guys next chapter.

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	22. Back

My palms burned as I repeatedly rolled my wheelchair forward and back, forward and back, staring down at nothing in particular as I waited for Anna to join me in the small physical therapy room. When Damon had dropped me off, the receptionist told me my wait wouldn't be long. That had been forty minutes ago and I was becoming irritated. Last night had been bitter sweet for me. For one, my toes curled and I actually felt the movement. The moment was blissful. However, the excitement quickly faded once I realized I couldn't repeat the action. Not only that, when I went to seek comfort from my pain medicine, I found that I was entirely out. That's what brought me to Anna's actual office. I wasn't scheduled to meet with her again until next Tuesday, but I knew I couldn't last that long.

Finally, one of the double doors squeaked open and I looked up to find her entering, her nose buried in a manila folder I'd come to learn held my entire medical history.

"Hello, Elena, I'm surprised to see you today," Anna greeted as she looked up with a smile.

"Well, I ran out of my pain medicine," I told her honestly. "I'm worried about getting through this weekend without it."

Her brow furrowed slightly. "I thought we last prescribed you enough to last 30 days?"

My mind quickly sought an excuse as to why I'd already run out. "You did…" I started slowly, waiting for the right words to fall into place. "It's just… I… well, this is embarrassing," I looked down at the ground, hoping my lying skills had improved over the past months, "one night Damon wasn't home, and I needed a pill but they were on the shelf next to the kitchen sink. I grabbed a spatula to knock the bottle off, but I didn't realize the lid hadn't been screwed on properly, so when it landed in the sink I lost like half the bottle. I'm sorry." Slowly, I lifted my eyes up to gauge her response.

I wanted to visibly sigh with relief as I saw sympathy flash in Anna's eyes, but I contained the reaction. "I understand," she said gently, pulling a pen out of her front pocket. "The first few months in a wheelchair is such an adjustment, huh?" she smiled, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

"You're telling me," I agreed, grinning to myself as she wrote out another prescription.

"When you showed up today I thought something was really wrong," she laughed, ripping the piece of paper from its pad. "That's why I had your medical file out."

I shook my head and took the paper. "Nope, just out of medicine."

"So, no improvements?" she asked, holding the folder against her chest.

"I moved my toes last night."

Her eyes grew wide and I thought her jaw was going to drop open. "What?"

"Yeah, they… curled," I confided, suddenly slightly embarrassed to be sharing the information.

Quickly she grabbed a metal chair and dragged it over in front of me, sitting down and opening my folder again. She clicked the pen and began writing. "What were the circumstances around the movement?"

I felt my cheeks heat with a blush and chastised myself for saying anything. "What do you mean?" I feigned ignorance.

She looked up, her eyes bright with excitement. "What were you doing when your toes moved?"

My eyes traveled down to the floor, avoiding her gaze. "I… was with Damon."

Immediately she began writing again. "Okay, doing what?"

I took a deep breath, flicking at the corner of the piece of paper held tightly in my hand. "Um… we were… being intimate," I answered slowly, hoping she understood.

"Intimate how?" Apparently, she didn't.

"We were…" my skin burned with the blush and I decided to just get it over with. "…having sex."

I heard the scratching of the pen stop and when I glanced up, I found Anna staring at me with an amused expression. "Having sex?" she repeated.

"Yes."

"And… that caused your toes to… what did you say? Curl?"

I wanted to heave a heavy sigh at needing to walk her through this. "Yes. They curled. When I… had an orgasm."

Her smile grew slightly and I could tell she was fascinated by my confession. "You felt an orgasm?"

"Yes."

"Elena, you have no idea how amazing this is!" she beamed, her pen moving quickly across the papers in my file again.

"Is it?"

"Yes, yes! This confirms _exactly_ what we suspected, Elena!" she looked back up at me. "You're not going to be paralyzed forever! Your nerves _aren't_ permanently damaged. They just need to be woken up, is all." Her eyes narrowed and a mischievous glint entered them. "And I think you've already found the perfect alarm clock."

…

Damon closed the driver side door as he settled into his seat and cranked the ignition. "So, to the pharmacy, right?" he asked as he pulled out of the parking space.

"Mhm," I answered, too distracted by my meeting with Anna to pay him much attention.

_Have more sex._ Those were her exact words. I was actually being instructed to _fuck_ Damon in order to get better.

What kind of bizarre world had I entered into?

I'm not sure Bonnie would approve of my new out-of-the-box prescription. I'm sure she'd say something along the lines of linking a physical relationship to emotional expectations is dangerous. After a certain point, I'd only be using Damon in order to get a certain result. We'd lose the intimacy aspect. It wouldn't be "making love" anymore. It would be clinical. That could be detrimental to us as a couple.

But how could I deny that there may be a possibility it would work. I had witnessed myself that one orgasm was enough to move my toes. Wouldn't it stand to reason that multiple orgasms, multiples times a day would move my entire body?

Why was I so hesitant to accept it?

I didn't doubt one bit that Damon would approve of my new instructions. He'd welcome it with open arms. But was I willing to chance our relationship over it?

"Elena?" I finally heard Damon's voice and my head snapped toward him.

"What?"

His eyes were cautious. "What are you thinking?"

I turned away and looked out the window. "What do you mean?"

He chuckled softly. "I can practically see the wheels turning in your head. You've got something on your mind. Tell me about it."

I bit down on my lower lip and considered hiding what Anna had told me. Damon would be willing to do _anything_ to give me back use of my legs. Something about that scared me.

"Come on," he urged, giving my shoulder a slight nudge.

I sighed and looked over to him. "Have more sex." I repeated Anna's exact words.

"What?" he asked, obviously taken aback.

"That's what Anna told me I need to do in order to get out of this wheelchair. Have more sex. She believes the orgasms will help 'wake me up'."

Damon's eyes were on the road in front of him, but I could clearly see the shock that traced his features, his lips pressed into a tight grin. He wasn't sure whether to smile about the news, or seem concerned. He probably wasn't sure which was most appropriate. "Ah," he finally responded.

"Yeah," I answered in the same don't-know-what-else-to-say tone. The atmosphere in the vehicle grew awkward and I was worried what Damon may be thinking. Maybe this was all too much for him. Honestly, it was a little too much for me.

We drove in silence for several minutes when suddenly the road beneath the vehicle became shaky. My head snapped up and I saw we were pulling off onto a dirt road.

"Where are we going?" I asked, my brow pulling together in confusion.

Damon drove us around a bend on the road that led beneath a thick lane of trees and stopped, turning the key and silencing the engine.

"Is something wrong with the car?" I asked, looking over to him.

A sly smirk tilted the corner of his mouth. "No."

I stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out his intentions. "What are we doing then?" I asked slowly.

His eyes lit up with a playful glint as he held my gaze and reached over to unlatch my seatbelt buckle. Then his fingers moved across my thigh to the buttons of my jeans. "We're getting started on your new _assignment_."

As the realization hit me, a giggle erupted from my chest and I started to push his hand away. "Damon, no, not here. Someone might catch us."

He reached back with his other hand and locked the doors, his eyes never leaving mine. "I think we'll be fine."

"Damon," I sighed, trying to find the strength to thwart his advances. "We can't. I won't."

He chuckled darkly, a sound I'd come to learn meant he wasn't taking no for an answer. With surprising swiftness, he crossed the gearshift, pulled the lever on the side of my seat that dropped the back down, and was hovering over me. I barely had time to realize what was happening much less stop him. "Let's see you try to get away," he challenged with a slight lift of his brow.

I stared up into his crystal eyes for several moments before another giggle broke free.

How the hell could I say no to him?

….

"Fuck… ugh…" I threw my head back into the pillow and reached up to grip the headboard with one hand. My other was wrapped tightly in Damon's silky hair as he slammed into me with wicked force.

"Elena," Damon groaned, his head buried in the crook of my neck.

_No, no, no, not yet, _I thought to myself as I anticipated the words he was about to say.

"God… I'm almost… fuck," Damon panted against my skin, too caught up in his own bliss to form coherent sentences. He didn't need to, though. I understood.

"Not yet, not yet, please," I pleaded, reaching down and digging my nails – probably a little too forcefully – into his firm ass, urging him to continue.

I felt him nod against my shoulder and pick up his pace, rocking the entire bed beneath us in a frantic haste. His fingers tweaked lightly at my nipples, forming them into hard peaks as his mouth kissed down my collarbone before wrapping wetly around the sensitive flesh. I felt his tongue flick the nipple as he sucked it, sending shooting waves of pleasure through my abdomen, but it wasn't creating the result I was waiting for.

Suddenly, with a low moan from Damon, our movements stopped and I felt his body stiffen. He was gone.

I closed my eyes and bit down on my lower lip, my breathing heavy through my nose.

Fuck.

Fuck.

FUCK!

It wasn't his fault. I couldn't blame Damon. He held on as long as he could. Just like he had done the last forty-four times.

I squeezed my eyes tight, fighting back the tears I knew were coming.

Forty-five times.

Forty-fucking-five was how many times we'd been "sexually active" since Anna had suggested it.

We'd fucked in the car. On the car. On the couch. On the kitchen table. In my bed. In his bed. In the guest bed. In the shower. In his home office. In his work office. In my back yard. In my front yard. In the fucking park.

We'd fucked _everywhere_.

And I still couldn't walk.

Not only had Damon tried using his penis to create another orgasm, he'd used his fingers, his mouth, and several different varieties of vibrators. I couldn't feel any of them.

Nothing was working.

As Damon's own breath slowed, he rolled to his side and pulled me against his chest. "Love, I'm so sorry."

I shook my head. "Not your fault."

"I know," he sighed. "I just wish… I wish I knew what to do. I wish I could figure out what I'd done that night, you know?"

I pulled back from his chest and used my arms to push myself up against the headboard. "It's nothing you're doing or not doing, Damon. I… I don't know what's wrong with me." My voice cracked and I quickly turned my head away, feeling my face heating with oncoming tears.

Damon moved up the bed, the sheets wrapped around his lower torso. He quickly wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me to him. "Hey, shh, don't cry. We'll figure it out, Elena. I promise."

Frustration sparked inside of me and I couldn't help but lash out at him. "You can't promise that, Damon," I snapped. "You don't fucking know." I wiped at my blurry eyes with the back of my hand before gathering my strength and sliding to the edge of the bed. I reached out for my nearby wheelchair and I felt the bed beside me stir. "Don't," I quickly commanded, looking back at Damon who was already half way out of the bed. "I can do it myself," I said bitterly, pulling the chair against the mattress. I felt Damon sit back down, but I could feel his eyes watching me closely.

Gritting my teeth, I used my hands to move my legs over the edge of the bed. I then bent over, grabbed the armrests of the wheelchair, counted to three, and hoisted myself up. As I twisted my torso to sit in the seat, the wheels of the wheelchair suddenly pushed back and I lost my grip, landing painfully on my side on the hardwood floor. I gasped for air, shocked by the unexpected fall. I heard Damon rush around the bed and he grabbed under my arms, pulling me back up and maneuvering me into the chair.

As he backed away, I sat motionless, staring up at him with a pounding heart.

I couldn't do it.

I _couldn't_ do it.

The realization was heartbreaking.

I felt a blush creep up my chest and neck to my cheeks. I was humiliated. As the subtle burn approached my eyes, fresh tears emerged and I knew I needed to be alone.

I grabbed the wheels of my chair and shoved forward, my eyes falling to the floor as the tears slid down my red face. I was grateful when Damon stood silent and watched me roll away. I couldn't stand to hear his words of comfort in that moment.

I rolled into the bathroom and closed the door behind me, making sure to lock the knob before moving to the sink. My bottle of pills sat on the counter and I made haste of opening the lid. Staring down at the small white circles, a quiet sob choked my lungs.

Why wasn't it working? Damon and I had tried it all.

Anna was wrong. I was going to be like this forever.

Could I handle that?

Could Damon?

He shouldn't have to. I shouldn't have to.

Why was I so..._damaged?_

What the fuck happened to being cured? I had met with Bonnie a million fucking times. Why were these thoughts bombarding me again?

I didn't have an answer to any of my questions and it scared me.

With shaking fingers, I pulled out a pill, placed it on my tongue, and swallowed.

Then I followed with a second.

And a third.

And a fourth.

And a fifth.

As the pills disintegrated and joined my bloodstream, a familiar calm washed away my thoughts and I settled back into my chair, staring up at the bright bulb above the mirror.

It was so bright.

It reminded of me when I saw my mother. In the meadow.

I had felt _so_ much peace then. I'd experienced nothing like it since.

My mother had told me it wasn't my time then.

Maybe it was now.

I was just so tired. I was tired of fighting and being strong and working to be better. I just wanted life to be easy.

Why couldn't it be easy?

A heaviness began to weigh on my chest and I sighed happily, recognizing my cloud of 'make-it-go-away' settling comfortably over my body. I let my eyelids droop until they closed, welcoming the darkness that filled my mind and shoved the rest of the thoughts out. Finally, everything was silent.

Why couldn't life be like this always?

…

Pine-Sol…

Quiet…

Pine-Sol and quiet.

That's what I smelled and that's what I heard.

I didn't even need to open my eyes to know where I was.

Question was… why was I back?

Slowly, I opened my eyes and the harsh light invaded my pupils. The action alerted me to the severe headache throbbing above my forehead.

Talk about déjà vu.

With a groan, I forced my eyes open the rest of the way and rolled over to my side.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Bonnie smiled.

_Fuck._

* * *

**A/N:** Hey, guys. First, let me apologize for taking so freaking long on this update. I've been as stuck as stuck can be and finally wiggled slightly free today. I've also been dealing with way too many real life issues. We're nearing the end of the semester so tests, tests, and more tests. I've also had 2 funerals to attend in the past week alone. It's been hectic, to say the least.

If you don't already, follow me on tumblr. I'm pretty active there and try to keep people updated on where I am with my fics. aphobiac(DOT)tumblr(DOT)com

See you guys next chapter!


	23. Logic

"What am I doing here?" I asked, rolling on my back again and closing my eyes tight.

I heard the click of her pen and knew she was going into psychologist mode. "Why are you here, Elena"

"Fuck if I know," I mumbled, trying to remember what happened. "What time is it?"

"10:12 AM."

"When was I brought here?"

I heard Bonnie ruffle through some papers before answering. "Your file shows you arrived at the facility at 4:30 AM. Paramedics responded to an emergency call at your home at 1:15 AM. Ruled an overdose."

I bit back a sigh as images of the bathroom flashed back. _Oh…right._

"You were taken to the Mystic Falls Medical Center where your stomach was pumped," Bonnie continued. "You were monitored for any severe complications for several hours, then brought here." I heard the file close and Bonnie paused. "So, Elena, let's try this again. Why are you here?"

I shook my head and threw an arm over my eyes. "You just read the file, Bonnie."

"You know what I mean. What caused this to happen?"

"Depression. Disappointment. An overtly acute awareness of the fuckery that is my life," I responded blandly.

She sighed. "I thought we had been working past all of this in our sessions. You haven't been showing any signs indicating you'd want to overdose."

"Well, one, I wasn't _trying_ to overdose. That was an accident." I responded as I started to push myself up into a sitting position against the headboard, deciding lying down was making my headache worse… or maybe that was just Bonnie. "And two, I wasn't showing signs of anything because I'm really fucking good at covering it up."

"How many pills did you take if you consider this an accident?"

I hesitated. "Five." Quickly, I realized she would take my medicine away if she knew exactly what type of pill I'd taken. "It was aspirin," I rushed in a half-weak attempt at throwing her off.

"The tox report brought to me from the hospital indicates an excess of an opioid analgesic in your system. Oxycodone. And far more than merely five," she responded without even blinking an eye. She knew I was a liar. "How often were you taking these pills?"

"As…indicated," I answered slowly.

"Try again," Bonnie cut me off.

I tilted my head back against the headboard and closed my eyes again. "Okay… maybe I took more than I should've."

"And were they helping?"

"Fuck yes," I nearly barked. I knew that wasn't the answer she was wanting, but it was the truth. Those pills made everything go away. They made everything better. They made me forget.

"So they solved _all_ your problems?" she questioned with a condescending tone.

I lolled my head over to look at her. "For a little while."

Bonnie shook her head slightly and began writing on her notepad.

I narrowed my eyes slightly at the travelling pen. Ever since I'd met Bonnie, she'd had that same notepad nearly attached to the knee she used to prop it up. It was annoying.

"Will I ever get to see what you write about me in that thing?" I asked, voicing my frustration.

"Probably not."

"Do you write bad things about me?"

Bonnie let out a small laugh, but continued writing. "Hardly. I just write my analyses of our conversations. My findings."

"What are your _'findings'_ about me, then?"

She finally stopped writing and looked up at me. "You really want to know?"

"I'm asking, aren't I?"

Bonnie stared at me for several beats before nodding to herself. "Okay." She flipped all of the pages of the notepad back until it was on the very first yellow page. "Here. I'll let you read what I wrote during our first meeting."

She held out the notepad and I took it slowly, slightly afraid to really read what she had written. I took a breath and looked down.

_Patient: Elena Gilbert_

_Patient has been at facility for 8 days. Heroin addict. Attempted suicide nearly a week ago._

_Upon our greetings, patient is aggressive, defensive. Angry. Sarcastic. Takes no responsibility for her actions. Doesn't understand consequences of her addiction._

_Patient is intelligent, even witty. Uses it as a mechanism to repel assistance._

_Past family problems? Patient exhibited extreme emotional response to standard questioning about her family. PTSD?_

_Despite patients' outward conveyance of hostility and strength, patient is scared and vulnerable. Obviously trying to forget/hide past experiences. _

_Patient attempts to remain "unfeeling." _

_Needs to work on rerouting emotions. Finding healthy outlets. _

_End session._

I sighed and held the notepad back out. "With all the time that's passed, you'd think something would've changed, huh?" Everything Bonnie had jotted down about me during our first session _still_ described me perfectly.

Aggressive.

Defensive.

Angry.

Sarcastic.

Scared.

Vulnerable.

I was a wreck.

Bonnie shrugged and flipped back to the page she was on. "Not exactly. People change at their own pace. And with everything that's happened with you, it's no wonder you've relapsed."

"Relapse," I snorted quietly. "I think that word indicates I was fixed at some point." I shook my head. No, I'm an addict. I have been since the day I arrived. Nothing was ever fixed. Nothing ever will be.

"Elena, it has nothing to do with _fixing_ you," Bonnie said, staring at me pointedly. "You're not broken. You just need to do exactly what I wrote during our first session: reroute your emotions and find healthier means of getting out those emotions. You internalize everything and you do it to the point that it's self-destructive."

"Okay… so, give me some examples. What do other people do to '_reroute' _their emotions?"

She leaned back in her chair and thought for a moment. "Well, some people exercise. Some people literally go outside and scream or scream into a pillow. Some people _talk_ about what they're feeling, either with a therapist or a friend. Some people write."

_Write_. The word made me cringe. I remember writing when I was younger. Just like I had told Damon during our visit to the storage closet, I wrote in my journal all day, every day. The journal that my mom had given me. The thought of writing again used to make me want to vomit. That was before I finally told everyone about what happened with my family.

Now… the thought didn't seem so bad. It still didn't sound extremely appealing, but it sounded like something I could try.

"I could do that," I said quietly.

"Do what?"

"Write. I mean, if you got me like a journal or something."

Bonnie smiled softly. "I could get you one."

"But you have to promise no one will read it," I rushed. "I know how much you guys like prying."

She chuckled. "I promise. No one will read it unless you want them to."

I bit down on my lip and looked down at my lap. We sat in silence for several minutes before I finally spoke again. "So, how long am I here for this time?"

"Until you're better."

My eyes snapped to hers. "There's no specific date? No exact number of days?"

"Nope," she shook her head. "Not this time."

"But I can't leave?"

"Not until you're better."

"And who ruled this? I don't know a judge in this town that would force me to be here against my own will considering what I took was simply pain medicine."

Her head tilted slightly and she gave me a look that said 'who-do-you-think-made-this-happen'?

I cursed quietly under my breath and looked back down. "Damon."

"The one and only," she grinned. Apparently she thought this was something to smile about.

"That's not fair, that he can do that," I sighed.

"Life isn't fair, Elena. The sooner you learn that, the sooner your problems will go away," Bonnie informed me as she gathered her folders and stood. "I'll find you a journal and get it sent up here to you as soon as I can."

I nodded. "Okay."

"Your wheelchair is down at the end of the bed. If you need any help, there's a remote controlled call button on the bedside table. We knew you wouldn't be able to reach the call button on the wall, so Jenna found this." She pushed the chair she sat in back under the desk.

"So, when will Damon be coming by?" I asked, looking back up to her. I was fully prepared to beat the shit out of him, while in a wheelchair, for forcing me back in this place.

Bonnie turned back to me slowly, a cautious, but firm look in her eyes. "He won't be."

My heart seemed to come to a screeching halt. _Won't be_? What the hell did that mean? Had he dropped me off in this place and decided to abandon me? Was he finally tired of my bullshit? What would I do without him? I had come to rely on him _so_ much, and not just for sex. I really cared about him. I really loved him. How could he leave me here?

"But… wha-…why wouldn't… I don't understand," I stumbled over my words, a new feeling of panic and frustration welling inside of me.

"I put the order in, Elena. Not Damon. It was my decision to not allow him in."

My anger shifted and I glared at her. "Why would you do that?"

Bonnie's eyes fell to the floor for a moment as she thought about her words. "It's not because I want to punish you, Elena," she began slowly. "But as a therapist of not only you, but as of Damon as well, it isn't healthy for him to come and visit you."

"'As of Damon as well'? What the fuck? When were you his therapist?"

"I haven't always worked here, Elena. I also worked with local schools, clinics, and even police departments when I had my own private practice. The police department sent Damon to me after the death of a close friend of his."

"Katherine," I filled in the blank.

She nodded. "You know about Katherine?"

"Yeah."

"Then you know that she killed herself? And that Damon went around blaming himself for _years_. I honestly still believe he does from time to time. So, if you know all of that, then you must know what your actions are doing to him."

"My actions?"

She rolled her eyes. "You can't honestly think that what you do has no affect on Damon. He was the one that found Katherine dead. He then found you after you slit your wrists. Then, he found you last night, unconscious in your wheelchair in a locked bathroom. You believe none of this is psychologically draining for him? Possibly even detrimental to his mental health?"

"I hadn't thought…" I trained off, understanding completely what she was saying but not entirely wanting to accept it.

"Damon takes everything you do to heart, Elena. Just like with Katherine, he blames himself for your suicide attempts, for your depression, for you being in that wheelchair. For everything. And the more you act out for your own selfish reasons, Damon dies a little more inside. And because of this, I'm not allowing him to come here. At least not until something in _you_ has changed."

I pressed my lips into a tight line, not sure how to respond.

Bonnie sighed and moved to sit on the edge of my mattress. "You have to think about what all of this is doing to him. If I allow him to come, he'll see you here, struggling again. He'll internalize it just as you do. The pain and suffering will continue to go back and forth until someone finally succumbs to it. I can't say that I'm entirely sure it'll be you, despite proving you're well on your way. This time apart will be good for him. Good for you."

"What if I disagree?" I questioned quietly.

She smiled gently. "Elena, if you were able to do what you wanted simply by saying you disagree, you'd still be in that alley with a needle stuck in your arm." She patted my leg and stood, shifting the folders in her arms. "I'll be back later."

I closed my eyes and listened to her footsteps cross the room, the door open, and then close.

Immediately my face burned with tears and I dropped down to my side on the bed.

She was right.

Not only was I hurting myself, I was _killing_ Damon.

I should've realized.

My chest tightened as a truth became apparent: I _did_ realize.

I knew exactly what my actions were doing to Damon. I knew he was hurting inside and that every time I lashed out at him or cried in front of him, he was mentally berating himself for what he could've done, should've done to make it better. To make me better. I just tried to pretend like I didn't see it.

As always, my thoughts rounded back to a central thought: I was a monster.

I not only worked hard to destroy myself, but those around me. I was cruel, unkind, and merciless.

Those pills should've killed me.

We'd all be better off.

…

Jenna stood behind me, holding my hair out of my face, as I vomited in the small wastebasket in my lap. My stomach muscles contracted repetitively until the ache brought tears to my eyes. My arms trembled as they held tightly to the trashcan.

After whatever little had remained in my stomach passed my lips, I sat back and groaned, wiping at my mouth with the rag Jenna held down to me. My skin was crawling and my body shivered as I sagged back against the headboard. I could feel my clothes sticking to me from the sweat and the feeling made me want to puke again.

"Think you're okay for a minute while I go dispose of this?" Jenna asked, reaching for the trashcan.

I could only nod and let her take it away as my hands fell lifelessly to my sides.

It's strange. As an addict who's gone through withdrawals before, you'd think the sensation of no longer having the drug in your veins would stick with you. You'd remember the sheer agony of your body fighting itself. You'd remember how it felt when it was as though your body was caving in and separating all at the same time. You'd remember the rigid muscles, the fevers, the insomnia, and god, the fucking vomiting. You'd think that would be enough to keep them from going back.

That would be the logical thinking.

I, however, was not a logical person.

And so I sat weakly in the bed, swearing up and down that the corner of the room had been in flames not five minutes ago, that pieces of the ceiling had started cracking and falling on us, and that a mans voice had been yelling my name from outside the window for fifteen minutes.

Jenna said I'm hallucinating. She said it's a symptom of the withdrawals.

I say it's all bullshit.

A spasm of pain rocketed through my body and I stiffened momentarily before my muscles released and I fell helplessly to my side. I gripped the sheets that were tangled around my torso and looked toward the door, thinking to myself that I may puke again soon and Jenna needed to bring the trashcan back.

My vision blurred and twisted and swayed as a male figure stepped in the doorframe, blocking the bright hallway lights.

I opened my mouth slightly to speak, but the action was too much and I quickly twisted my torso, dry heaving as though I was puking, though there was nothing remaining in my stomach.

When the convulsions finally stopped, I stared down at the floor blankly, wishing I'd just die already.

I heard the footsteps approaching, but they sounded as though they were echoing in a large cave. Strong hands reached under my legs and back and lifted me, cradling me against a perfectly muscled chest.

"Damon," I croaked, rotating my head lazily to look up at him. My body strained against the motion and my heartbeat quickened painfully in my chest. Before my pupils could focus on his beautiful face, blackness crashed into me.

* * *

The late night talk show on the television droned incoherently in the background as I flipped through the pages of a new case that I couldn't focus on because I honestly didn't care enough to.

I tried to commit the facts to memory_,_ knowing that there'd be a briefing in the morning that I would have to lead.

_Victim: Lionel Sanchez. _

_Age 47. _

_Found shot four times, point blank, in the back. _

_Neighborhood is quiet on crime. Possibly gang related. Wife believes the shooter is Vic-X, also known as Victor Piroguay. _

I let out a heavy breath and sat down my pen, rubbing at my eyes with my thumb and index finger.

I really didn't care who shot Lionel Sanchez. I personally had arrested Sanchez myself eight different times with charges related to drugs, robbery, and attempted homicide – all of which he'd found a way to get out of. Mystic Falls was undoubtedly better off with him gone.

But I wasn't the judge nor the jury.

It wasn't my job to label him guilty. Just to find out why he was dead and who did it.

I picked back up the pen and pulled the file closer, trying my best to push out other pressing thoughts. It had been difficult to think straight lately.

As I started in on the next paragraph about where the crime happened, my cell phone began to vibrate against my hip.

I took it from my pocket and brought it up to my face, not even bothering with checking the ID. Only the station called me this late at night and I never welcomed their calls.

"Detective Salvatore," I answered tiredly.

"Damon? Hello?" A panicked sounding Bonnie responded and I sat back, holding the phone out to read the screen: _MF Rehabilitation._

My heart fell into my stomach. The drugs had killed her this time. I just knew it. You couldn't fuck around with that stuff this much and not expect it to happen.

I brought the phone back to my ear slowly, still hearing Bonnie call out my name. "I'm here," I told her, bracing myself for the news that would ultimately kill me, too.

"Damon, Elena's missing," she rushed, a crack in her voice indicating she'd been crying.

My brow furrowed. That wasn't what I was anticipating.

"What did you say?"

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry for the cliffie! (But not really. ;P)

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	24. Hollow

The metal doors of the facility felt overly heavy as I pushed them open, the elevator especially slow as it carried me up to Bonnie's office.

My mind was spinning. How could Elena just go missing from her room?

When the sleek steel doors parted, I nearly ran to meet Bonnie. The office door slammed open and shut as I entered, turning two pairs of eyes toward me.

"What the hell happened?" I demanded forcefully.

Bonnie stood from behind her desk and motioned for me to sit in the chair across from the resident nurse, Jenna. Jenna's eyes were tinged red around the edges and I instantly felt sorry for my aggressive demeanor.

"Damon," Bonnie started slowly, "we're not sure."

I ignored the chair and focused on her. "How the _fuck_ could you not be sure?" I suppressed my urge to shout. "How does a girl that's staying on the _third_ floor of your building, a girl that CAN'T WALK, mind you, simply go missing? You've got fucking cameras _everywhere_, Bonnie! There's nurses at every corner! I can not accept that _no one_ saw her leave!"

"Damon, we are _not_ a prison," Bonnie responded, her voice calm but firm. "We have patients that decide to leave of their own free will every single day. We have patients that are allowed to leave for a day and come back, and we have patients that are allowed regular visitors."

"But those patients are _not_ Elena! She should've been watched more closely."

Bonnie's eyes narrowed. "Well, what about you, Damon? You were supposed to be watching Stefan."

"I have been!" I snapped back. "Stefan, at this very moment, is on an assignment that _I_ ordered him to in southern Virginia. He's there working a murder with a partner that notifies me of their every move. He hasn't been anywhere near this facility for at least a week. So, let's try this again, Bonnie. How the fuck did Elena leave?"

"There's no way she left on her own," Jenna spoke up, her voice soft and in complete contrast to my own.

Both Bonnie and I looked toward her. "How do you know?" I asked.

She shrugged, wringing her fingers together in her lap. "I was with her before she went missing. She wasn't doing so well. Her withdrawals symptoms were pretty strong. Shaking, fever, things like that. I went to her room to check on her and found her vomiting. I stayed with her for a while then I went to empty her wastebasket. When I came back, her wheelchair was still in the room, but she was not. I immediately went to find Bonnie. And besides, someone would have noticed a vomiting, seizing girl if she were dragging herself down a hallway." Jenna sniffled and looked down at her hands.

"So, if the nurses saw nothing, what about the cameras?"

Jenna shook her head. "Whoever took Elena knew their way around. They knew where the cameras were and they avoided them."

My fingers went up to my hair and pulled in frustration. "So, nothing? We have _nothing_?" I asked mostly to myself. This couldn't be happening. Everyone leaves something behind. "Take me to her room," I said, my hands falling back to my side.

Bonnie nodded and grabbed her keys out of the drawer of her desk.

The strong stench of cleaning products filled my nostrils as the door to Elena's room opened. "When was this room cleaned?" I asked immediately.

Jenna glanced over my shoulder. "Oh no," she whispered. "I forgot I had put in the order for her room to be cleaned as she was getting sick. No one was ever notified not to clean it."

I closed my eyes tightly and breathed deeply. There goes 99% of our evidence. I shook away the thoughts and entered the room. There had to be something.

Elena's bedding was tangled around itself and the sight made my heart hurt. I knew how badly Elena twisted in bed when she was restless or upset. I was always there to comfort her. This time I wasn't.

I sighed and continued looking around the room. The floors had obviously been scrubbed clean. Her desk held nothing but a blank sheet of paper and a pencil. Her clothes were all folded neatly in their drawers and her wheelchair rested against the wall.

I walked farther into the room and looked out the large window. I heard Jenna and Bonnie follow after me and as they did, the metal door clinked shut. The sound caught my attention and I looked toward it.

The lock.

"Hey, Bonnie, hand me your keys," I requested, my eyes trained on the locking mechanism. She passed them to me and I walked over to the door. The "key" was nothing more than a card encoded to unlock doors. Much like hotels use. Beside the handle was a small black box with a slit in it where you ran the card to unlock. This box was on the inside and outside of every door in the facility. I swiped Bonnie's key and a small "click" sounded, indicating the lock had moved. I turned the handle, pulled the door completely open, then let go. The door closed back on its own.

I turned toward the women in the room. "These type of locks come with readers, right? Telling you what keys had recently opened it?"

Bonnie's eyes grew wide as she understood. She walked over to the intercom system and pressed the button.

"Yes?" the lady on the other end answered.

"Send maintenance to room 304. Ask them to bring their door lock equipment."

"Yes ma'am."

A gentleman from maintenance arrived in a few short minutes, a toolbox in his hand. We greeted him outside the door.

"Hey there, y'all," he smiled.

Bonnie nodded but didn't return the smile. "We need you to read us the keys that have recently unlocked this door."

"Alright," he responded, "give me just a sec'." He sat down his toolbox and opened the lid, pulling out a screwdriver and a small black box with a cord extending from it and a screen on its front.

"I'll be back in just a moment," Jenna spoke to Bonnie softly. "I allowed Luka to visit Caroline for a bit and I need to make sure he's returned to his room."

"Of course," Bonnie replied with a small nod.

The maintenance man unscrewed the side from the box on the wall and then plugged the end of the cord into a small hole. He pressed a few buttons and the device in his hand lit up. I heard small beeps coming from it as it began downloading the information.

"It'll take just a minute," the man told us.

"Damon," Bonnie spoke gently, diverting my attention to her. I saw worry in her eyes. "Do you think we'll find her?"

"We have to," was my only reply.

A louder beep sounded from the device and the man unplugged it from the wall. "Here y'all go." He handed the box to Bonnie.

She turned so we could both read the screen.

_- ROOM 304 - _

_BONNIE BENNETT_

_BONNIE BENNETT_

_BONNIE BENNETT  
_

_THIRD FLOOR JANITOR_

_THIRD FLOOR JANITOR  
_

_JENNA SOMMERS_

_JENNA SOMMERS_

_JENNA SOMMERS_

_JENNA SOMMERS_

_JENNA SOMMERS_

_BONNIE BENNETT_

"I don't understand." Only Bonnie, Jenna, and the cleaning staff had opened the door – just as we already knew.

I turned toward Bonnie and her face was ashen, the color drained completely. She looked toward me, her eyes full of disbelief. "Damon… Jenna's key opened this door more times than she led us to believe."

My brow furrowed and I looked back down. Jenna's name was on the screen 5 times. I know from experience that you need to swipe your key at least twice when you visit the room – to enter and to exit. I replayed what Jenna had said in Bonnie's office:

"_I went to her room to check on her and found her vomiting."_ First time opening the door.

"_I stayed with her for a while then I went to empty her wastebasket._" Second time opening the door.

"_When I came back, her wheelchair was still in the room, but she was not."_ Third time opening the door.

"_I immediately went to find Bonnie." _Fourth time opening the door.

She opened the door a fifth time, but didn't let it close.

The realization slammed into me with a force that took my breath away.

_She held the door open for someone._

* * *

The seat beneath me vibrated roughly, jarring me awake. My eyes slowly opened only to be met with more darkness. I turned my head and slowly the dull glow of a dashboard formed before me.

"Where am I?" I asked, not entirely sure who I was talking to. Why wasn't I at the rehab facility anymore?

"Hi, honey," I heard a familiar voice to my left and I turned toward him. Alaric.

My brow pulled together in confusion. How did I get with Alaric? The last thing I could remember was throwing up in a trashcan. I tried to remember past that point, but things were fuzzy. I gave up as my temple throbbed painfully. My skin felt as though a cool liquid was running across it, but I didn't feel nearly as awful as I had back at the facility. "Ric, what's going on?" I questioned, rubbing at my eyes with the palms of my hands.

"I got a call from a woman at the rehab facility. Jenna, I think it was." I turned to look at him, but his eyes were trained on the road. "She told me you tried to kill yourself again."

Quickly, I shook my head. "That was an accident."

"It doesn't matter. I'm taking you away."

I sat up a little more straight in my seat. "Away? Away where?"

"I don't know yet." His gaze never turned in my direction and there was something strange in his features. Something was going on.

"Ric…" I started quietly, an uncomfortable gnawing beginning in my stomach, "…where are we going?" I asked again.

His lips pressed into a tight line before he looked back at me, his eyes softening. "I have to take you to someone."

"To who?"

I could see the war in his mind. Something serious was going on. "Elena," he began finally, his voice cracking. "He's got Isobel."

…

My breathing was labored as we pulled up to a tall, two-story abandoned warehouse. The windows were partially boarded shut where the others were so smeared with crud and dirt that you'd never be able to see through them. A large metal garage door off to the side rose and Alaric slowly started to drive inside.

On the way there, Alaric explained to me that Jenna had called him to come and get me. She didn't think the facility was the right place for me anymore. She didn't believe that Damon nor Bonnie were helping me at all and that if I stayed there, I was surely going to die. She thought that being around family from my past would help cure me. She went through my files and found Alaric to be the nearest person from my past, so she called him.

Alaric didn't know all of the specifics of what had been happening to me, but he loved me enough not to care. If I was in danger, he was going to take me away from the problem. He and Jenna devised a plan to take me away from the facility. Jenna was only trying to help.

Right before Alaric was to come and get me, he received an "anonymous" call. The person said they had Isobel and would be more than happy to release her, alive, as long as they brought me to them. They said that if Alaric called the police, they would know immediately and would kill her.

Isobel was three months pregnant.

Alaric told me that he didn't want to take me to the caller, but he couldn't sit back and let them kill his child.

As much as I didn't want to, I understood. I told him as much. Alaric was making the right call.

I knew who was on the other end of that phone.

Stefan.

No one deserved to die for me. I had gotten myself into most of the situations I currently faced and it wouldn't be fair for Isobel or her baby to reap what I had sown.

If Stefan was determined to kill me, I might as well get it over with and let everyone else get on with their lives. They'd all be better off anyway.

Just as if we were pulling into a thriller movie, the headlights of Alaric's SUV illuminated the form of Isobel tied to a wooden chair in the middle of a large open space inside the warehouse. Alaric threw the vehicle in park immediately, scrambled out of the car, and over to Isobel. The gate behind the vehicle whirred to life and lowered.

My fingers dug into the leather fabric of the seat beneath me as I frantically searched for movement other than Isobel and Alaric. It didn't take me long to see his shadow traversing a metal walkway hanging above where we were.

Taking a deep breath, I opened my door and prepared myself for what was to come.

His voice rang out loudly in the hollow space. "Alaric," Stefan began in an authoritative tone. "You may untie Isobel and place Elena in that same chair."

Alaric's head swiveled toward me, his eyes panicked. He hadn't fully thought through what he was doing and I saw he now understood. He was handing me over to save Isobel.

I nodded to him. This was what he had to do. There was no way out of this. I would not let him nor his family suffer because of me.

He hesitated before quickly working to release the restraints around Isobel. She sat motionless in the chair, a blindfold around her eyes, but I could see her chest rising and falling with desperate breaths. As soon as the ropes fell slack, she jumped up and held tightly to Alaric. Alaric began leading her back to the vehicle when Stefan spoke again.

"She stands there until Elena is in the chair. If she moves, she will be shot. Do you understand?"

I watched Alaric take a shuddering inhale and nod. Reluctantly, he let go of Isobel and walked back to me.

As he opened my door more, I saw tears in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Elena," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

I shook my head and tried not to cry myself. "It's okay," I responded gently. "Take Isobel home." I reached out for him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders as he lifted me. My muscles were still sore from the withdrawals and my grip was weak. If I ever had the strength to fight back, this was not it.

Alaric carried me to the chair and I could feel his body shaking. He was scared. I felt horrible for putting him in this situation.

Slowly, he sat me in the chair, and grabbed at the rope.

"Don't bother. It's not like she can walk. Leave," Stefan commanded coldly.

I could hear Isobel sobbing beside me, her blindfold still tied tightly. Alaric stared down at me, his expression frozen between regret and panic. Several beats passed before Stefan told him to leave again. Alaric didn't move.

"Alaric," I whispered, shaking my head again. "You need to go."

Another tear rolled down his cheek as he watched me. "Elena, I can't leave you here."

"You _have_ to," I replied firmly. "Isobel needs you. That baby needs you. _Go_."

I could see the hesitation in his face before he finally grabbed Isobel and rushed her back to the vehicle. He got her safely into the passenger seat before running around to his side and climbing in. His eyes found mine again and held my gaze briefly. In that moment, everything he never said was heard. He was sorry. He loved me. He wished he wasn't doing this.

I nodded and smiled softly, hoping he understood it was okay.

The lights of his SUV blinded me and I had to look away as he started the ignition. The gate lifted enough for him to back the vehicle out, then it closed again.

As the metal touched the concrete flooring and the bang echoed around the empty space, a new surge of adrenaline coursed through me.

This was it.

This was _really_ it.

I'd had so many close calls lately that I shouldn't be surprised to find myself here. I also should be used to the feeling of being near death.

However, I was still scared.

I wasn't scared when Damon was around and I thought I would die. I wasn't scared when Alaric was in the room with me and I knew I was going to die.

Maybe I didn't get scared then because I didn't want them to see that part of me.

Now, though, with the metal door closed and knowing I was completely alone with the person who would kill me, I was frightened.

I closed my eyes as I heard his boots sounding off the metal steps.

"Hi, there, Elena," he greeted, his voice echoing around me.

I bit my tongue and focused on breathing through my nose. I hoped he would get this over with quickly.

"Aw, not going to say hi back?" he asked, his voice nearly on the same level as me. "That's fine, I suppose. I guess we are past formalities, aren't we?"

I heard his footsteps now on the concrete floor as he approached.

"I must admit, dear, I'm impressed with how long you've evaded me. I can't say that you accomplished that entirely alone, however. Ever since you told Damon about me, he's been up my ass twenty-four seven. Smart move on your part."

I finally opened my eyes and looked toward him. He was dressed in all black from his slacks to his leather jacket. On his hands were gloves and in his palm, a gun. "How do you know I told Damon?"

"Correction, I know you told _Bonnie_ who then told Damon."

My brow furrowed. How could he know that?

He smiled slyly as he saw the question on my face. "I'm a cop, Elena. We get these wonderful things called 'covert listening devices.' Slip one right next to the windowsill in your hospital room and voila, I'm a bug on the wall."

My mind flashed back to the hospital and Stefan hesitating by the window. Of course.

"Damon and Bonnie came up with this truly brilliant plan while you were sleeping to… what did they say? _Make me pay?_ They were going to wait until your 'accident' at the party blew over. They were going to let me believe I'd gotten away with it and that I wasn't suspected of anything. Then, Damon and I would go out on a call to investigate something. Damon said he'd kill me and blame it on some criminal that got away." Stefan walked leisurely around me as he recalled what had been said. "I have to say, I was pretty shocked that my own brother would be willing to kill me for some common-crack whore."

"Heroin," I corrected him enigmatically. "I'm a heroin whore. I didn't do cocaine."

He shrugged. "Tomato, tamato."

"I don't understand," I admitted. "Why do you _have_ to kill me? You obviously got away with everything. Why can't you just leave me alone?"

He walked in front of me and squatted down to my level, his eyes dark. "I'm not one to leave any loose ends."

Stefan stood back up and walked around my chair. I could feel his presence hovering over me. I heard the click of his gun as he cocked it and it felt as though the adrenaline in my body immediately went into overdrive, causing my muscles to shake violently.

"Really wish it wouldn't have come down to this," Stefan told me, but I could hear the falseness in every word.

I closed my eyes, wrapped my arms around my chest, crossed my ankles, and waited for him to shoot.

Instantly my eyes flew open, but I remained motionless.

I… crossed… my… ankles.

The breath rushed out of my lungs and my heart beat so loudly I could feel it in my veins.

I crossed my ankles.

Glancing down, but making an effort to not alert Stefan, I tested the control of my foot. Only slightly, I moved it back and forth. I then tested the second.

Both moved. I could _feel_ the motion from my toes to my hips.

I nearly laughed at the irony of the situation.

I finally woke my body up, only to be seconds from losing it all.

I closed my eyes again and let go of the surge of joy I got from regaining my movement. There was no reason to be excited by it.

Suddenly, a loud banging sounded against the metal door.

My head snapped toward the sound. Surely Alaric hadn't returned. He couldn't have been so stupid, could he?

Stefan quickly moved from my chair and farther into the dark room, hiding himself in the shadows.

The standard door next to the garage door shook as someone began rattling the handle. Several more seconds passed before an explosive bang hit the door and it flew open.

My heart stopped in my chest when Damon ran in.

"No!" I screamed out.

Damon barely made it half way to me before the gunshot rang out and he fell on the floor. I was so consumed by the echo of the shot that I didn't even realize I was screaming.

Stefan walked out from his hiding place, a small, disgusting smile on his face. He walked past me and to his brother, looming over his limp form.

"He always was such a fucking idiot," he spat, staring down at him.

Rage abruptly expanded in my body, turning my vision red and making my muscles burn. Swiftly, I grabbed the chair beneath me and bounded toward Stefan, hate fueling my strength. Before he could turn around, the chair was smashing into the side of his skull, not entirely hurting him, but disarming him enough that he dropped the gun.

Without thinking, I grabbed the weapon, aimed and shot.

And shot again.

And again.

And again until the gun was out of bullets.

When there was nothing happening but empty clicks from the gun, my body gave out and I dropped to the ground, my anger dissipating and extreme sorrow taking its place.

A terrified and helpless cry left my lips as I looked from Stefan's now blood-soaked body to Damon who still lied motionless.

What do I do now?

* * *

**A/N:** Yay for updates for Christmas! What did you think?

Merry Christmas, everyone!

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	25. Okay

My heart pounded against my chest and I could feel the beat through my veins. My vision blurred and swayed as I tried to understand what was happening.

Why wasn't Damon getting up?

Slowly, I twisted to my knees and began crawling toward him. My muscles tightened as I moved, fighting back against my decision to approach him, but I pushed past it and achingly forced them forward.

Passing Stefan, I closed my eyes and tried breathing through my nose. I knew he was dead, but panic swelled inside me at the thought of him popping up and attacking me again.

Putting pressure on my arms to crawl, my palm suddenly landed in something slick and my arm slipped out from under me. Steadying myself with my other hand, I opened my eyes and looked down.

The urge to scream nearly choked me.

Stefan's blood coated my hand from wrist to fingertip.

I lifted the shaking hand to my face, staring at it with wide eyes. My mind immediately went to work dragging up the images of my father, my mother, and Tyler. Blood. Death. Blood. Everywhere. Touching me. Tainting me.

I felt my body sway and knew that like the other times, I would be passing out soon.

_Damon._

I closed my eyes again and breathed heavily. No. I couldn't black out. Blacking out was only a way to escape my reality. Right now, the reality was Damon needed me.

I forced the hand back to the floor, wincing at the feeling of the blood squishing beneath my fingers. Slowly, I started forward again.

Damon wasn't far from where Stefan laid, but the journey felt as though it took a year. As my fingers finally grazed his shirt, I allowed my eyes to open and I moved next to him.

I stared down at him, not sure what to do. I could see blood pooling on the side of his body and I swallowed a sob. With trembling fingers, I softly touched the side of his face. His skin was pallid and cold against my fingertips. "Damon?" I whispered, hot tears filling my eyes and spilling over my lashes. He didn't respond and I steadied my hands enough to turn his face up, running my fingers through a few strands of his hair to push them away. "Damon?" I repeated, this time a bit louder. Still no response. Guilt, panic, shame, and anger simultaneously filled my body and I gripped Damon's shirt in desperation. "Damon!" I finally screamed, the emotions making my chest feel tight and breathing difficult. "Damon, wake up!"

My bodied doubled over and I buried my face in his chest, for once not even caring that blood was smearing against my cheek. Frantic sobs shook my body as I clung to him, realizing I couldn't even tell if he was breathing anymore.

This was it.

This was my punishment for being such a fuck up all my life.

The only person who ever cared enough to save me was dying because of me.

Further proof I was the monster I always believed myself to be.

…

The air around me stilled and grew chilly as I lied motionless against Damon. My tears had dried, and along with them, my will to live had vanished.

I could hear sirens approaching, but the sound didn't shake me. I just wanted to be left alone here until I stopped breathing.

As law enforcement entered the building, everything began moving very quickly. I was snatched up by a man and shouting flooded my ears. Red and blue lights swirled around me as the medics rushed Damon onto a stretcher and the police led me to the back of a car. The metal handcuffs they slapped on me were entirely too tight, but I was too out of it to really notice the pain.

As soon as I realized the possibility Damon might die because of me, I gave up. I didn't care if someone walked in and shot me in the face, I was ready. My mind became empty, my heart shattered.

As the officer placed his hand on my head to lower me into the car, I could hear Ric shouting in the background, pleading with the police to let me go.

"I called you here!" he yelled. "_She_ was fucking kidnapped! He was going to kill her! She's innocent! Elena tell them!"

With blank eyes, I simply looked toward Ric and shook my head slightly. I didn't have the energy to convince these men that I was "innocent." I wasn't innocent. Damon had gotten so caught up in my messes that he now laid in the back of an ambulance. Even if I did have the energy to fight back, the men recognized Damon and Stefan. They were their friends. Stefan was dead. Damon was hurt. I was the druggie and the only one still alive. They did the math pretty quickly.

I heard Ric shouting my name once more before the cop shut the door and all outside sound went away. With a heavy sigh, I closed my eyes and rested my head back against the seat.

If Damon did die, I would happily rot in a prison cell for the rest of my life. Hell, I would throw away the key for them.

I deserved to go away.

This was best. For me. For everyone.

…

I sat motionless on the metal bed in my cell, staring vacantly at the concrete wall across from me.

I wasn't sure how long I'd been there. It could've been a day, it could've been a week. I didn't even try to keep track.

Investigators came and went many times. Each wanted me to explain to them what happened, but I remained quiet. Several expressed that they wanted to help me. They said they got pieces of an elaborate story from Bonnie and from Ric, but they needed me to verify it all or it was just hearsay and they couldn't get me out.

I still stayed silent.

No one had come with any news about Damon. Every second that ticked by with nothing, my mental state and physical health deteriorated bit by bit.

I didn't care either way.

* * *

The metal bars guarding the cells click-clacked open, sending a chill down my spine. Elena didn't belong in here. The police informed me, however, that she wasn't defending herself and until she did, she was being charged with the murder of Stefan Salvatore and attempted murder of Damon Salvatore.

I sighed and held my legal pad tighter against my body. The officer led me down the narrow hallway, passing cold grey metal doors securing female prisoners. We reached one and he turned and looked at me.

"No one has been able to get her to speak or to eat. She sleeps some, but mostly when she's too exhausted to keep her eyes open. Sometimes we get ladies in here like that. Too buried in their guilt and they kinda just give up."

I narrowed my eyes and looked at him. "Guilt? Mrs. Gilbert has nothing to be guilty of as of this moment. Innocent until _proven _guilty, correct?"

He simply shrugged and called in for her door to be opened. A loud buzzing sound went off and her door slid to the left.

As I looked inside, my heart instantly broke. Elena sat huddled on a metal cot-like bed, her knees tucked against her chest. Her cheeks were sunken in and dark circles blackened her eyes. Her lips were white and chapped, her stare entirely expressionless.

Cautiously, I walked into the cell, nodding back at the officer to close the door. A metal chair sat against the wall and I pulled it over in front of Elena and sat down. She didn't even appear to register my arrival.

I crossed my legs and placed my notepad on my knee, leaning forward with my forearms propped against the pad. I waited several minutes for Elena to look toward me, but she barely even blinked.

"Elena?" I started softly, watching for any signs of… well, anything from her. When she didn't answer, I reached out and softly touched her leg. "Elena?" I repeated. "It's Bonnie."

Slowly, her head turned toward me, but the motion seemed mechanical. Her hazelnut eyes, which were typically so deep, were flat and unreadable, staring not at me, but through me. It was scary.

I flipped to a clean page and began writing.

_Patient: Elena Gilbert_

_Incarcerated for six days now. Patient approaching catatonic state. Unresponsive, stiff, vacant. Staff states patient hasn't eaten or spoken since arrival. Patient seems –_

"Bonnie?"

My hand froze and I looked up, barely registering the strained voice that spoke my name. I nearly thought I imagined it, but I could tell her eyes were slightly more focused on my face.

I tilted my head slightly, studying her. "Elena?"

"Where's Damon?" she asked hoarsely.

"The hospital."

"Is he okay?"

I pressed my lips tightly and weighed my words. I had called the hospital every day to check on Damon, but because of the case and my involvement with Elena, the staff was not allowed to release any information. The most they could tell me was that he was still there, indicating to me that he was still alive.

I quickly realized that Elena was internalizing her grief of Damon's injury. I could lie and tell her he was fine in hopes of her making a recovery, or I could tell her the truth.

Over the past months, I had grown to see Elena as more than a patient. I saw her sort of as a friend. No, we didn't hang out on the weekends, but I trusted her and knew she trusted me. I looked forward to our meetings and I had taken more of an interest in her getting well than simply a therapist does for a patient.

I owed her the truth. As her friend.

"I don't know."

I regretted the words, visibly seeing her draw back in on herself, but I knew I had done the right thing. We both cared for Damon. I was also scared for his recovery and worried he may not make it. I couldn't let either of us hold on to some false illusion that everything would be okay. I truly didn't know if it would.

I sat with Elena for the next four hours.

Neither of us said another word.

* * *

"_Close your eyes and I'll kiss you, tomorrow I'll miss you; remember I'll always be true…"_

_A familiar voice reached my mind as he sang softly, slowly. _

"…_and then while I'm away, I'll write home every day, and I'll send all my loving to you..."_

_A slight smile turned my lips and I let my eyes open. My head rested in Damon's lap and his fingers ran through my hair._

"…_I'll pretend that I'm kissing, the lips I am missing, and hope that my dreams will come true..."_

_His velvet tone wound itself around my heart and I could feel a peace settle into me. "Damon," I sighed, letting my eyes drift close slightly._

"_And then while I'm away, I'll write home everyday, and I'll send all my loving to you."_

"_I love you," I whispered, turning on my side and wrapping an arm around his leg._

"_You're dreaming, love," he told me quietly._

_I nodded. "I know."_

"_Darling, you're dying."_

_I smiled and chuckled tranquilly. "I know," I repeated._

"_Don't."_

_My smile faded and I looked up at him, meeting his sorrowful crystal eyes. "I want to."_

_He shook his head and smiled his crooked smile. "Not today."_

I gasped and shot up, commotion coming from the hall waking me suddenly. My fingers tightly gripped the sheets beneath me as I thought back on my dream and how I had been with Damon. He had felt so real.

Why couldn't he be real?

More shouting came from the hallway and I turned to the noise. Different voices poured in the room when suddenly one sounded far too familiar. It was _his_ voice.

I was absolutely losing my mind.

Stiffly, I stood and walked over to the little window in the door. Looking out, my chest tightened and my breath rushed out in a gust.

"Let her out now!" Damon was demanding of the officer he had up against the wall, his fists clenching the man's upper arms.

The officer's eyes were wide. "You know I can't, Detective," he stammered quickly.

Damon moved closer, his face inches from the others, "I swear to god, if you don't open this door you and every-fucking-body on this floor will lose their job and I will guarantee that you don't work in law enforcement again. Do. You. Understand?" he asked, his tone steady but so menacing I could see the mans face pale.

The officer finally nodded and reached for the walkie on his hip. "Open B-8."

I stepped back as the buzzer sounded and my door moved.

My mind was spinning with the possibility Damon could actually on the other side of the door.

As the metal parted, Damon released the man and rushed to my door.

When he saw me, he stopped short, his eyes furrowing with shock and distress. "Elena?" he asked hesitantly.

The sound of his voice sent a jolt through me and I could feel my heart rate increasing. "Is this another dream?" I asked, surprised by how gravelly my own voice sounded when in the other dream it had been smooth.

Abruptly, Damon crossed the space between us and wrapped me tightly in his arms, kissing the top of my head. "No, baby," he muttered against my hair. "This is not a dream."

I closed my eyes, confusion slamming into me. This couldn't be real. But it felt _so_ real. The warmth of his arms. The strength of his embrace.

"Please don't go," I whispered, suddenly realizing that if this was a hallucination, it couldn't stay forever. "Just be real a little while longer."

He moved back slightly and grabbed my shoulders, bringing his face to my level. "Elena, I _am_ real. I'm right here, love."

I stared back at him and tears began to fill my eyes – the first tears since I'd been parted from him.

I could feel my hands start to shake and I swallowed dryly. I reached up and gently touched his cheek. "You're alive?"

He straightened and pulled me back into a strong hug, smoothing my hair down my back. "Yes," I could feel him nodding. "I'm fine, baby. I'm okay. We're okay."

My eyes closed. I sighed.

_We're okay._

Like a falling building, the weight of the world slid off my shoulders and his words sunk in.

We're okay.

* * *

**A/N:** I know this was short, but I wanted to get it out sooner than later.

Thanks so much to bittenbythetvbug on Tumblr for the inspiration to get this chapter complete! You're a doll, love!

(On the Tumblr note, if you don't already, follow me!: aphobiac(DOT)tumblr(DOT)com )

See you guys next chapter!


	26. Sleep

Court.

Sleep.

Court.

Sleep.

Court.

Sleep.

That was how I'd spent the last three weeks.

After Damon came to get me from the jail, every emotion I'd pushed away or buried came rushing back to me in a sloppy flood. I cried, I laughed, I got angry, I got bitter, I felt relief, I cried again. And those emotions were on repeat for several days until I finally got it all out and under control again. Then I was just left with exhaustion.

Bless Damon. He never left my side through any of it. He was with me at the highs and lows. And when it came time for us to start going to court, he stood beside me even when his lawyer told him he shouldn't.

He was absolutely amazing.

And that only made me feel guiltier.

The doctors said that Damon was lucky. The bullet entered and exited cleanly through his side. There was slight damage to a muscle, but with a regular workout routine, he'd be "as good as new in no time"- the doctors words, not mine. I'm not sure how anyone can be good as new after a bullet has pierced their skin.

I returned to my room at the facility following the jail cell. Everyone, including me, agreed that I needed the treatment provided there after experiencing this entire ordeal. The only thing I required was that Damon would be allowed to stay with me. This caused a great disturbance in the home. Most of the faculty was strict with their policies and patients simply were not allowed overnight visitors. "What would the other patients think?" they said. Bonnie pled a good case, though, and somehow got the request approved.

I later learned that Jenna helped Ric in taking me from the home. She lost her job, but I wasn't sure if I should feel pity for her. On one hand, she thought she was helping me get to a better place. On the other hand – the one situated in reality – she unlocked the door that led to my attempted murder. Damon was adamant about pressing charges against both her and Ric for kidnapping. I could never do that to Ric though. I didn't blame him for giving me up in place of Isobel. It's what he, as her husband, should have done. He vowed to protect her. I would have been ashamed of him had he chosen any other path.

"Miss Gilbert?... Miss Gilbert?"

My head snapped up to meet the snake eyes of the prosecuting attorney; Meredith Fell. Had I fallen asleep? Certainly I'd zoned out for a moment, but part of me felt like I might've actually gone to sleep right there in front of everyone.

Who could blame me, really? I'm tired down to my bones. I'm a walking zombie. Lifting my eyelids after a blink is a chore. And listening to hours upon hours of testimony and farfetched statements is downright boring.

"I'm sorry," I shake my head slightly. "Would you mind repeating your question?"

Meredith tilts her head slightly as she studies me. Her gaze is uncomfortable so I distract myself by scrutinizing the way she's put herself together for court today. Her dark brown hair is secured tightly in a twist along the nape of her neck. The tightness pulls back her face a bit, making her features seem sharper than they probably are. Her dark grey skirt hits the top of her knees exactly, elongating the short expanse of bare leg showing. I bet that usually gives her a leg up with the ogling judge – no pun intended. Her matching blazer has obviously been fitted exactly for her body, pulling in slightly in the middle to narrow her waste and give the appearance of a larger bosom; probably also to appease the judge.

"Miss Gilbert," Meredith begins, "on a scale from 1 to 10, how would you rate your current mental state."

"Objection!" my defense lawyer, Niklaus Mikaelson, shouts and stands up behind his table. Niklaus, also referred to as Klaus by most in the courthouse, is a good friend of Damon's and was appointed to me after Damon requested it. He's been a pretty good lawyer; well, as lawyers come anyway. There's still something about him that sends chills up my spine, much like the effect Meredith has one me, but he's been resolute about proving my innocence. "Her question damages the accountability of my client," he continues.

"I was just making note of how the client has missed the last five questions I've asked, your honor," Meredith says to the judge.

Had I really missed five questions? Hm.

"Objection sustained," the judge declares and turns to Meredith. "Ms. Fell, simply re-ask the question."

Her lips press into a tight line, but I can see the corners wanting to turn down into a frown. Ms. Fell is not used to not getting her way. She narrows her eyes and turns back to me.

"Miss Gilbert, let me repeat my question. Could you please tell us what you told the police as to why Mr. Stefan Salvatore, quote, wanted you dead."

"He knew I knew he killed my family." The response from me was automatic. I'd said it probably fifty times over the past few weeks. The words rolled lazily from my tongue.

"And why did he kill your family?"

"To get a Faberge egg that had been passed down in my family."

"What proof do you have of this?"

"He told me so himself."

"Hearsay is not proof, Miss Gilbert."

This got my attention. I straightened a little and glared back at Meredith. "Hearsay may not be proof, _Ms. Fell," _I sneered, "but the undeniable evidence of my dead father, mother, and brother should count for something. Not to mention the bullet that was covered in his own brothers' blood. Stefan did not lash out because he was _innocent._"

"Do you have any other proof?" she asked, ignoring my previous reply.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, praying I'd calm down enough to not jump over the stand and bitch slap _Ms. Fell._ I nodded. "The egg is at the chief of police's house; Elijah. Well, it _was_ there. With a tag saying it was donated by Stefan."

"Why didn't you report it to the police?"

I nearly laughed. "Who would believe me? I was a recovering addict whos reputation was for shit. I would've been laughed out of the station."

"But you could've told Detective Salvatore. You two were lovers, were you not?"

For some reason her questioning me about my relationship with Damon pissed me off. That was private and none of her business. I told her as much.

"Well, Miss Gilbert, we're simply trying to form a reasonable motive for Stefan Salvatore to want to kill you or his brother. And if all you say about him is true, it's odd that you never reached out for help."

"What I'm saying is true!" I lashed out, my palms slamming down on the stand.

Everyone in the courtroom reacted to my shouting except for Meredith. A sly smile turned her lips and I knew this was the emotional response she was trying to pull out of me. It would only help to damage my credibility if the jury found me emotionally unstable.

"I think we'll take a short recess," the judge interrupted any further questioning. "Adjourned until noon."

Meredith crossed her arms and swayed back to her table.

…

"Fuck, I hate her!" I cursed, stomping into my room at the facility and kicking the trashcan. The rest of the trial day had gone down hill after the recess. Everything I answered with, Meredith somehow threw back in my face to make me seem incompetent.

"Elena, I know. We all do. Lashing out at the poor waste basket won't solve anything," Damon tried soothing me, grabbing my arm and pulling me back until I was wrapped in his embrace.

I closed my eyes and let his scent waft over me. "Why is she such a bitch?" I groaned.

"Who knows. Maybe because her hair's pulled back too tight."

"You noticed that, too?" I sighed.

Damon pulled away and held me at arms length, looking over me head to toe. "How are you doing with all of this?"

"I'm tired," I answered honestly, and as I said the words, I felt my body sag an inch. "I'm just fucking tired."

He released me for a second as he closed the door then went to my dresser. He pulled out the facility's standard sleep clothes for me and brought me to the edge of the bed. Gently, he sat me down and began undressing me.

I was too tired to even really think about that fact.

As my court clothes were pealed away from my body, my skin felt fresher and less tainted. I stood and helped Damon slide me into a pair of white shorts and held up my arms for an oversized t-shirt to fall around my torso. He reached around my head and pulled out the clips to let my hair fall loose down my back. When he was done, he stepped back and I looked up at him.

Part of me wanted to cringe away from him seeing me like this – messy hair, unflattering clothes, sagging eyes and pale skin. He reached out and pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, then let his hand rest against my neck.

He sighed and I found his crystal gaze. "You are so beautiful," he whispered in such a hushed voice I wasn't sure I was meant to hear.

Despite my fatigue, I felt my cheeks flare in a blush. I reached up and wrapped a hand around his wrist at my neck. "Damon, why are you still here?" I asked him. The question had plagued my thoughts even before everything happened with Stefan. Damon staying with me just didn't make sense.

His lips turned up at the question as if it was such a foolish thing to ask. It took him several moments to finally respond. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

My heart fluttered at his words. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and abruptly he lifted me into his arms. With a quick swooping motion, I was nestled under the sheets with Damon hovering over me. I giggled.

"So now I guess we have an intimate moment? I mean, what did Meredith call us? Lovers?"

He bent down and gently pressed his lips to mine in a chaste kiss. He pulled back and sighed. "As much as I'd like to claim you as a _lover _in this moment, I won't. For now, it's time to sleep." He rolled to his side, effectively rolling off my body, reached out, and pulled me into his chest. Circling his arms around me, he kissed the top of my head and inhaled deeply. "I love you," he sighed.

I closed my eyes and matched his exhale. "I love you, too."

Wrapped in his arms, I felt small and entirely safe, as though nothing in this world could hurt me – including Meredith Fell.

Although he chose not to do something sexual with me, I found myself more attracted to him than I'd ever been before. He wasn't just taking care of my body. He was taking care of _me_. He knew I needed sleep and that's what he was providing.

Leaning my ear against him, I closed my eyes and let the beating of his heart lull me to sleep.

* * *

**A/N:** Hey, guys. I apologize it took me so long to post something, even if it was only this itty bitty chapter. Let me explain:

A good portion of you follow my Tumblr and already saw this explanation, but for those not on Tumblr, here's what's been keeping me from fanfiction. I'm currently in school, graduating in May with two degrees, I work a full time job with the hours typically running past midnight, and I'm also planning a June wedding. All of this is exhausting. My classes have me doing A LOT of writing and by the time I finish paper after paper or script after script, I'm all creatively tuckered out and just can not find the will nor the energy to write for fanfiction.

So, with that being said, I'm hoping approaching fanfiction with a different tactic will help me. Normally, I loathe updating the story unless the chapter is a good 5K plus words. I've decided that I'll try posting mini-chapters as often as I can with the hopes of getting a sort-of kind-of regular update schedule for you guys. I have a feeling a lot of these chapters won't have jaw-dropping revelations or twists as past chapters have had, simply because they're leading up to the action, but at least they'll be something to read. I don't foresee this story lasting a whole lot longer, but there's still some things I'd like to accomplish with it and hopefully do so before the world ends.

Thank you so so much for those who are still out there waiting for updates. Thank you even to those who send me nasty e-mails about not updating - you at least give me some sort of motivation. I love all you guys and promise I'm trying my best to find spare time to work on the story.

If you're not, please follow me on Tumblr. You'll be kept in the loop about where I'm at with the story way better than by not following me: aphobiac(DOT)tumblr(DOT)com

See you guys next chapter.


	27. Wait

I closed my eyes and tilted my face up into the nearly too-hot water. Steam swirled around the bathroom as the shower water stung my skin. I relished each slight burn for its power of reminding me that I was still alive.

I was preparing for another long day in court. I didn't want to go. I desperately wanted it all to end. I wanted to be done with Stefan and the pain he'd brought into my life.

Unfortunately, it wasn't going to go away that easily. Demons never do.

I ran my hand up over my face and through my hair. As my skin began acclimating to the temperature, I reached down and turned the hot water up. I cringed as liquid fire scalded me and turned so my back would bare most of the discomfort.

Suddenly, the shower curtain pulled back and I jumped, startled by the movement. Automatically, my hand flew out for something to defend myself, coming up with only a bottle of vanilla scented shampoo.

My eyes found the face of the intruder and I exhaled loudly in relief.

"You… were going to attack me with that?" Damon asked slowly, a teasing smile lingering on his lips. "With a shampoo bottle?"

I rolled my eyes and sat it back down. "What are you doing in here? We're going to get in trouble."

He shrugged. "What they don't know won't hurt them." Casually, he lifted his black v-neck over his head, tossing it to the side. I crossed my arms over my body and tightened my jaw, fighting off the desire bubbling inside of me at the sight of his perfectly sculpted chest and abs. I did my best to act unaffected as his fingers deftly undid the buttons of his jeans and pulled the zipper down.

"What are you doing, Damon?"

"Taking a shower with you," he replied indifferently.

I bit down on my lip as he hooked his thumbs into the side of the jeans and coolly lowered both them and his boxers.

_Unf_, my subconscious squealed, but I just shook my head. "I don't have much time before I need to get ready for court."

He kicked the clothes off and stood gloriously naked before me. "You've got time," he smirked and without further ado, stepped into the shower.

The instant the water touched his skin he hissed. "What the hell, baby?" He reached forward and nearly turned the hot water all the way off. "What are you trying to do, get third degree burns?"

I shook my head, my cheeks heating in a blush of embarrassment. "I just like the water hot."

"Apparently," he muttered, turning the knobs until the water was just above warm. He backed up slightly and ran his hands over my shoulders and down my arms, his eyes taking on the trademark 'sympathetic Damon' gaze. "How are you today?"

I shrugged. "How do I look?"

A slight spark lit up his eyes as he smirked. "Well, currently, you look naked… and wet."

I rolled my eyes again. "Well, obviously."

"But beyond that," he paused and let his eyes study my face. "You're starting to look defeated."

My shoulders sagged an inch. "You can see that?"

Slowly, he turned my body to face the showerhead. Picking up the shampoo, he poured a bit into his palm, then gently began massaging it into my scalp. The feeling was marvelous and I closed my eyes. "I can see right through you, love," he murmured near my ear. "I always have."

"So, what do I do about it?" I asked. "About being defeated."

"Well," he ran his fingers down my hair, then turned me to tilt my head under the stream and wash away the soap. "You start by remembering who you're doing this for."

"For us," I answered automatically.

"Of course," he nodded, and pulled me forward a little to exit the water. His hand rested on my cheek as he peered into my eyes. "But more importantly, for your family. For Vicki. For every single person he may have ever hurt."

I sighed, closed my eyes, and tilted my face to nuzzle into his palm. "That kind of feels like the weight of the world, you know?"

"You're strong enough to bear it."

"And you know that how?"

"Look at me," he whispered and I opened my eyes to be met with his deep, unwavering crystal eyes. "Because you're _you_. You _are_ strong enough."

When Damon spoke to me that way, I almost had to believe every word he said. His voice and words were clear and resilient and helped me stand a little straighter. I was strong enough to do this. I _was_. And not because I'm a naturally strong person, like he insisted, but because he believed in me. That was enough.

But what if it wasn't? What if, in the end, I wasn't strong enough and Stefans name was cleared and I was put in jail. More people than just me would suffer. And my family would never get the resolution they deserve.

I closed my eyes again. My mind was not very helpful in self-confidence boosts and I could feel myself crumbling just as quickly as Damon had built me up. That courtroom was going to eat me alive.

"Damon, I don't want to think about it anymore," I whispered, hearing the weakness returning in my tone. "Just for a little a while. I don't want to deal with it."

Nearly instantaneously, Damons' hands grabbed my hips and he pushed me through the water until my back hit the tile wall. His lips landed on mine hard and I gasped against him.

He lifted back between the kisses to speak. "Then don't-" kiss "-think about it, love.-" kiss "-Just think about me.-" kiss "-About this." kiss. His fingers trailed up slowly over my hip and my side, skimming the curve of my breast softly. "And this," he whispered.

As his fingers continued their travels and circled my nipple, his tactics worked and my mind washed blank of anything but his lips, his hands, his erection pressing firmly against my thigh.

Slowly my body began to function again and I lifted my arms around his neck, my fingers tangling in his soaked hair. Tightening my hold, I pulled him down closer and deepened our kiss, my tongue passing his lips and sensually caressing his. Water from the shower flowed down Damon's back, rolling over his hair occasionally and sliding between our faces and down our chests.

Our kiss was fervent and all-consuming. A rush of emotion surged inside me as I realized I _needed_ this man, and not in just the way of his emotional support and protection, but I _needed_ him to fuck me. I _needed_ to feel him moving against me, inside me.

My lips broke free of his and I gasped up toward the ceiling, his mouth continuing to suck the skin at the bend of my neck.

"Damon, I need you," I nearly begged, pushing my hips forward to drive home my meaning.

"Not yet, sweetheart," he shook his head.

The sound that came out of me was not normal. It was angry and feral. "Why?"

Leisurely, his lips kissed down until they found my very perky nipple. Sucking it into his mouth, I felt his tongue reach out and flick it. I groaned loudly, my body on fire. He did this several more times before kissing across my chest to the next breast and repeating the action. My fingers dug into the muscles in his shoulders as I tried to keep myself steady, each lick of his tongue threatening to knock me out entirely.

His hands gripped my hips tightly as he moved away from my breasts and began down. My eyes flew open as I watched him lower himself to the shower floor. I was mesmerized by his actions, afraid and excited for his next move.

Softly, he pressed a kiss against my hip, then across my stomach to the other. With gentle prodding, he parted my legs so I stood entirely bare before him. He looked up at me and my heartbeat skipped.

He was perfection. Knelt before me naked with water rolling down his shoulders, his chest. His hair was dark from the water and I reached down to run my hand through it and push it all back. His eyes were glowing and passionate, the perfect ice blue virtually colorless beneath the heated gaze.

"God, I love you," he whispered, his voice full of adoration and want.

Despite being rained down on, I found my throat dry and unable to respond. I nodded slowly, wanting him to know just how much I agreed with that statement.

I bit down on my lip as he began leaning forward, his eyes never leaving mine. His tongue reached out and barely touched my skin and I whimpered. He did this several more times before finally bringing his mouth closer and fully running his tongue between my skin and against the throbbing knob at my center.

Instantly my head flew back and I cried out. From that point on, he was all in. His mouth closed around me and he sucked hard, his tongue trailing between my labia folds and making my hips push forward. With two fingers, he slid into me and quickly began rocking into me, all traces of softness forgone. I could feel my body tightening at an almost startling rate. His lips found my clit and he teased it, sucking once, then twice, then lapping his tongue over it rapidly. My hands clenched at his hair and I pulled involuntarily. Damon groaned loudly and that was all it took for me to be pushed over the edge. My back slammed back into the wall as the orgasm overtook me, but he held firmly to my hips and continued his relentless assault with his mouth. I trembled and shook as each sizzling lap deliciously shocked my body and my core quavered.

Panting, I slowly released Damon's hair from my fingers and let my hands drop beside me. My skin tingled as the orgasm began to fade away and my head lolled to the side.

_Wow_.

I opened my mouth to… well, I wasn't really sure what I was going to say to him. I love you? Thank you? But before I could form a word, Damon was standing, his arm wrapping around my waist, and he lifted me onto his erection, slamming into me unceremoniously.

_Oh. Wow._

I inhaled sharply and my hand flew up to grab the base of the showerhead. Damon's hands found my ass and he lifted me up, pressing me tightly against the wall. My legs circled around his waist and my other arm wrapped around his neck.

There was no tenderness found in his movements. Relentlessly he slammed into me, my body sliding up and down the wall.

"Fuck," he groaned, his head falling down against my neck.

I closed my eyes and savored the feeling of him inside me, his body stimulating my clit with each stroke.

"Mmghh," I hummed, amazed by the way his body seemed to be made to fuck mine.

Again and again he slid in and out, - "_Unf… yes… unf… unf…-"_ my back becoming sore from the unyielding hits into the wall. My tender nipples stung wonderfully as they rubbed against his bare chest. I could feel myself approaching a second orgasm and cried out as it hit me.

"Damon! God! Ungh!"

With that, Damon began speeding up, his hips bucking into mine, his fingers gripping beneath my ass hard enough that I knew bruises would be there tomorrow. His cock filled me entirely and each time he pulled out, I felt empty. I leaned my head back against the wall, my jaw slack with unbridled pleasure, my breaths matching his and coming in quick pants.

Suddenly, Damon stilled inside me and I knew he'd found his release, his throbbing erection pumping into me with hot bursts.

"Unghh, fuuuck," Damon swore, his eyes closed tight and his muscles trembling.

As we stood against the shower wall, both of us coming down from our highs, I opened my eyes to look at him. "I love you," I exhaled, planting quick, chaste kisses across his face.

He caught my lips and molded our mouths together, kissing me deeply before pulling away. "Fuck, I love you, too."

…

"Today, our jurors will make a judgment," the judge proclaimed and I, and the entire courtroom, gasped.

We were three weeks into the trials. Everyone had been called to the stand including myself, Damon, Matt, Ric, Jenna, Bonnie, and Elijah. Some of these accounts were good and helpful, some were not. It was estimated that this thing would be going on for at least another month, but with the judge's words, that didn't seem to be the case.

Meredith stood and requested to speak. "Your honor, the prosecution hasn't completed its intent to the jury."

"Intent being?" the judge asked.

"To prove the late Stefan Salvatore's innocence and Elena Gilbert's guilt."

"Well, Ms. Fell, from how much I've heard proven by the defense and how little's been proven by the prosecution, I'm, to be honest, weary of dragging this hearing out any longer. You must remember that the jurors have been away from their families for three weeks. The state is spending an exorbitant amount of money to hold these trials. Unless you've got something extremely worthwhile up your sleeves, I'm calling it a day."

I could see Meredith's face growing red as she searched for a response while maintaining her calm. "Your honor, the prosecution would like to give their closing argument."

"Proceed."

Meredith took a deep breath before smoothing down her blazer and walking around her table and toward the jurors.

"Jury, you've been given much information to process over the past few weeks," she began. "Much of it has been relayed by a heroin addict and most recently Oxycodone addict. She claims Stefan Salvatore killed her family for… what? A Faberg_é_ egg? That was never even sold? If something that valuable were stolen, why would the thief not seek the riches it would bring? As medical records have proven, Elena Gilbert has attempted suicide _twice_. Once by cutting her own wrists and once by jumping out of a window. If she is willing to kill herself, why wouldn't she be willing to kill someone else? What would stop her from killing Stefan Salvatore without provocation? Tyler Lockwood? Vicki Donovan? Or even her own family?"

My entire body lit on fire with her statement and it took Damon's reaching over the barrier and gripping my shoulder to remind me to stay sitting as she continued.

"Police records have proven that she's a liar, easily conning her way out of arrests and being sent to a rehab instead of where she belongs, jail. Today, it is your job to set this right. Beat this liar at her own game. Tell her, we see right through you! You will not blind us! Everyone knows Elena Gilbert is guilty for many, many things. Be the ones to correctly add murderer to that list."

With that, Meredith nodded politely to the jurors and turned to walk back to her table. Our eyes met and a small smile turned her lips. I could feel my hands shaking with anger… and fear. She was right. I was guilty of so many things, including two deaths. Now the jury of twelve would see it, too, and I would be taken from the only person that has ever truly loved me since my parents.

I turned and looked at Damon as he sat in the pews behind the defense table. "I love you," I mouthed slowly. "And I'm sorry." Those were the only words I could get out before officers were escorting me to a back room to await the decision. I wanted to tell Damon so much more.

I'm sorry for leaving you now.

I'm sorry for every pain I've brought you.

I love you for saving me as long as you could.

I will always love you.

Sitting me down in an office on my own, the officers shut the door and I sat down in a lone metal chair.

And waited. For what, I wasn't sure.

* * *

**A/N:** :)

See you guys next chapter.

P.S., I'm always on tumblr. Visit me there! .com


	28. Judgement

The large clock on the wall made tiny _ticks_ that sounded much louder in my mind than they probably should have. Each tick brought up images of the past that lead me to where I was.

_My mom tied to a chair._

_My dad_ _lying in his own blood. _

_My brother being shoved in a closet._

_Me on my knees, ready to blow Tyler for heroin. _

_Vicki's face on the picture in Damon's hand in that alley._

_The pristine white walls as I woke in the rehab._

_The knife cutting into my wrists._

_Tyler standing at the window of my room at the facility._

_His hands grabbing me._

_The alarm clock crumbling against his face, mixed with splattered blood._

_Meeting Stefan for the first time at the station._

_Sleeping with Damon for the first time at the station._

_Running away from the station to Ric._

_Shooting up at the shotty hotel Matt worked at._

_Realizing for the first time that I loved Damon._

_Finally telling Bonnie my story and breaking down the wall that isolated me._

_Finding my family heirloom at the gala and seeing Stefans' name below it._

_Stefan pushing me from the window._

_Waking up in the hospital with my lower half paralyzed._

_Swallowing all the pills in the bathroom to get away from that reality._

_Waking up at the facility again._

_Being taken from the facility._

_Ric untying Isobel from the chair._

_Stefan coming up to me with the gun._

_Damon bursting into the warehouse._

_Stefan shooting Damon._

_Me shooting Stefan._

_Blood._

_Blood._

_And more blood._

"Elena." My name was suddenly spoken and I jumped as I was pulled from the images, my head turning to the now open door. It was my lawyer, Niklaus. "They're finished. It's time."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. They hadn't taken as long as I'd hoped they would. I couldn't decide yet if that was a good or bad thing.

Slowly, my lawyer, my police escort, and I reentered the courtroom. We stood as the jury filed back in, and I noticed with a sinking stomach that none of them even glanced to my side of the room. That couldn't be a good sign.

The judge made his way to his seat and let us all sit.

He looked toward the jury and a single man stood.

"Mr. Foreman, has the jury reached a verdict?" the judge asked.

"Yes, your honor," was the mans reply.

"Please read the verdict before the court."

The man lifted a piece of paper and read, "We the jury, find the defendant, Elena Marie Gilbert, innocent of first degree murder."

The tension in the room completely fell apart with that one word.

_Innocent_.

I was innocent.

I was fucking innocent!

Warmth spread through my body as my shoulders sagged an inch. This was over. This was finally fucking over.

The smile that spread across my face was probably the largest smile I'd ever had. I turned and looked back at Damon. His eyes were full of complete glee and reverence.

"I love you," he mouthed and I nodded.

"However…" the foreman continued and I froze, turning quickly back to look at him. However, what? What else is there to say beyond I'm innocent? "…due to the traumatic nature of recent events and Ms. Gilberts' history of drug use, it is this jury's decision that Ms. Gilbert will return to the Mystic Falls Rehabilitation Clinic for an additional 90 days with release subject to the review of a licensed psychiatrist."

I closed my eyes and suppressed a groan.

You have _got_ to be kidding me.

* * *

**A/N: **Very short chapter, but sooner rather than later, right?

I'm hoping to get another chapter out either tonight or tomorrow.

See you guys next chapter. :)


	29. Trust

I sat on the perfectly made up bed, my rehab-assigned clothes sitting in my lap. I wasn't quite sure how I was supposed to be feeling at the moment. This morning, I was proclaimed innocent. It was absolutely one of the happiest few minutes of my life. For a flash of time, I was free. Then I was ruled to return here. I didn't understand it and I definitely didn't agree with it. The way I saw it, I'd done my time here. I was ready to go home.

A quiet knock sounded against the door and I looked up.

"I just wanted to stop by and see how you were settling in," Bonnie smiled softly.

I shrugged.

Her smile lowered. "I know the situation is not ideal, Elena, but it could have been worse."

"Did Damon say when he was stopping by?" I asked quietly, looking back down at the clothes.

"He did, but I declined the visitation."

My brow furrowed. "Why?"

Bonnie sighed, folded her arms across her chest, and walked over to the chair in my room. Sitting down, I watched as she mulled over her words, choosing the best way to answer. "Elena, I don't have to tell you how much you've been through. You already know. And you have already proven to so many people that you are a survivor and a fighter. I have no doubt that you will overcome any obstacles that come to pass. However, with that being said, in the most recent past, any time anything traumatic occurred, Damon was there nearly immediately to pick you back up. Now, by no means am I saying that that's a bad thing. It is always beneficial to have someone that cares for and supports you. The thing you need to learn, Elena, is how to deal with these things on your own. For years now, you leaned on the drugs. They helped you cope. When Damon came into the picture, you leaned on him, to a certain extent. You need time to figure out the best way for you to process tragedy without help from anyone or anything."

"There's no more tragedy for me to process," I argued. "I'm perfectly fine with what happened to Stefan. He got what he deserved."

"Maybe today you think that and maybe tomorrow you'll feel the same way. But sometime, and probably sooner than you'd like to admit, the fact that you actually killed someone… again… is going to become an issue. And when it does, I'll be here with you teaching you how to cope on your own." She reached forward and patted my knee. "After you change clothes, I thought you'd might like to relax for a bit. You can do that wherever you'd like as long as it's on the grounds. I'll see you tomorrow morning for our meeting."

She waited for me to respond and when I didn't, she finally sighed and left.

…

Dressed in my white tank top and white, flowy capris, I made my way down the stairs. I'd decided to go sit on the swing outside and get a bit of fresh air.

Opening the front doors, I heard my name being called behind me and I turned to find Caroline running toward me.

A genuine smile turned my lips. "Caroline!"

Caroline ran up and abruptly wrapped me in a hug. "Elena! I've missed you! I'm so glad you're back!"

"I missed you, too," I replied, not feeling quite the same way about the last sentiment.

"Where are you going?" she asked, backing away from me.

"To the swing. Want to join?"

Her eyes travelled outside warily and I knew she was thinking about the last time we were out there together.

"No one's coming this time, Caroline," I laughed. "It's all over."

She looked back to me, thought for a moment longer, then nodded. "Okay. Sure."

Together, we walked down the lawn toward the swing. "So, how have you been?" I asked her.

"Perfect," she beamed.

I eyed her suspiciously. "Perfect? Does this have anything to do with the boy you were telling me about last time?"

"Possibly," she answered coyly.

I reached over and poked her in the side. "Come on! Spill!"

She giggled and stepped away from me. "Okay, okay! His name…" she paused dramatically and stopped walking, looking up toward the sky, "…is Kol." A deep, exaggerated exhale left her, almost as if his name _was_ heaven.

I laughed and sat in the swing, folding my legs up to my chest. "Kol?"

She nodded quickly and began pacing in front of me. "He's 19 and he's from here and he's an ecstasy addict."

"Those are things you've already told me," I reminded her. "What else?"

"What else? What else is that he's _perfect_," she cried, drawing out the word 'perfect'. "He's so kind to me and so gentlemanly and _so_ gorgeous!"

"So, I guess you like him?" I teased.

She looked at me with a dead-serious expression. "No, Elena. I _love_ him."

My eyes grew. "Love him?"

"Absolutely, one-hundred percent, over-the-moon-and-stick-a-fork-in-me-in-love."

I laughed loudly at her combination of clichés.

She held her hands up to her chest and sighed. "I never thought I'd find anyone, Elena. Especially not with being the way I am. But I didn't even have to go looking for him. He came to me." She sighed and dropped to sit beside me theatrically.

"Well, I'm happy for you, Care," I grinned.

"And you know what?" she continued, looking over at me. "He doesn't even care that I'm a you-know-what."

"You told him?" I gasped, surprised that she would drop all of her craziness on someone she's falling in love with.

She nodded. "I figured he deserved to know the truth from the get-go. But he's not frightened of me. If anything, he thinks it makes me sexier," she smirked.

I smiled, but wondered briefly about the sanity of this Kol person. "You've told Bonnie of your new romance?"

"Of course. And I know he's talked to her about me as well. She told me having a relationship with someone who's not a vampire would be healthy for me. As long as I don't feed on him," she nodded once to herself.

"Good rule," I agreed and suppressed a laugh.

"So, how have you been?" she asked. "I heard about the trial this morning. Congratulations."

"Thank you. I don't know, I've been good. I _feel_ good, which is why I don't understand why they made me come back here."

"Is it okay for me to tell you what I think?" she asked slowly.

I looked to her and nodded. "Of course. You're my friend, Caroline, you can tell me what you're thinking."

She smiled gently and took a deep breath. "I don't think you're really the best person to assess what you're feeling. I kind of think you get your feelings confused."

"Why would you think that?"

"Well," she looked to the ground, "I know I'm not exactly the most observant person, but you've left here and come back _a lot_. More than most patients. And I can guess that all the times you left, you _felt _good. But obviously that wasn't the case if you were brought back just days after for whatever reason."

I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off.

"Look, I'm not trying to say anything bad about you. And I'm not saying anyone else can know you better than you know yourself. I'm just saying… maybe you should trust them, Elena. And if not 'them' as in the overall staff of the facility, then maybe you should trust Bonnie. She's actually not that bad to talk to."

I watched as Caroline eyed the ground warily, bracing herself for the well-known wrath of Elena. My heart sank slightly as I realized just how much I pushed people away with the idea that I know better. My immediate reaction to defend myself melted away and I smiled, understanding that Caroline wasn't judging me. She wasn't putting me down and wasn't making me feel like less of a person. She was just trying to help.

"Okay," I answered softly and she looked up. "I'll try to trust them."

I wasn't expecting the gripping hug that bombarded me, causing my breath to rush from my lungs.

"Thank you!" Caroline screamed in my ear and I winced.

"Can't… breath," I gasped and Caroline quickly released me.

"Oh, god, sorry," she apologized with a huge smile still on her lips.

…

"First thing's first," Bonnie started as she stood from behind her desk in her office. "You have a phone call."

"I do?" I asked, closing the door behind me. I had arrived on time in Bonnie's office for our session this morning. I was prepared to put down my walls and try my best to do just as Caroline had asked.

She held out the receiver toward me as I came over and took it.

"Hello?"

"Hi, baby," Damons' voice came through.

My heart jumped in my chest and I clutched the phone tightly. "Damon?"

"How are you, love?"

"I miss you."

"I can assure you I miss you more," he laughed.

"Where are you?"

"Home. I'll be leaving in a few minutes to check on your house, then I'll be on my way to work."

"You're checking on my house?"

"I do every day," he responded and my heart melted. I'd never had someone care for me like he did. Even when he's not with me, he's still taking time out of his day to check on my things without me ever having mentioned it.

"Thank you," I said and my voice cracked slightly, tears suddenly pooling along my waterline.

"Shhh, baby," I heard him soothe. "Don't cry."

He didn't even need to be with me to know how I was reacting. "I just really miss you."

"I know, sweetheart. You put in the work that you need to do there and we'll be together soon enough."

"I will. I promise," and as I said the words, I knew they were true. I would do whatever I needed to do to be with him again. Bonnie held up her wrist and pointed to her watch. "Baby, I've got to go," I said quietly, a sharp pang of sadness in my chest.

"I love you, Elena," he said with enough strength to ensure the words would last me until we spoke again.

"I can assure I love you more," I joked and I heard him laugh on the other end. "Bye, Damon."

"Bye, love."

And with that, I handed the receiver back to Bonnie for her to hang up.

"So," I looked up at Bonnie, conviction finally in my heart to hear her out. "I trust you. Teach me the right way to deal with this."

* * *

**A/N: **:)

See you next chapter.


	30. Worth

"Elena, breathe," Bonnie shouted near my ear.

My arms wrapped around my torso as I doubled over, my vision blurring and my palms sweating.

"Breathe! Take a breath!" she yelled again. "You are stronger than this. You can beat it."

I clenched my eyes closed and tried to zone in on the sound of her voice. _Breathe_, my mind echoed.

Inhale.

The air filled my lungs like razor blades and I could feel myself choking on it.

_Breathe_.

Exhale.

Inhale.

I groaned.

"That's right, Elena. In and out. You'll be fine," Bonnie continued, her hand rubbing my back.

Inhale. Exhale.

Several minutes passed as I continued forcing air into my body and Bonnie continued talking me down.

We had been working together for a week now; her teaching me how to vanquish my demons on my own. The only problem we'd stumbled into was that, so far, I didn't consider killing Stefan to be a demon. And I had apparently gotten over the grief of killing Tyler. In my mind, I was easily able to convince myself that those actions were justified.

Bonnie pressed, though, that I didn't really feel that way. She said the emotions from those actions were just locked inside me and all that was needed to free them was to rattle the chains that held them back.

Fuck rattle.

She'd just used a pickaxe on them.

My body shook and a hot sweat burned my face.

Bonnie had been asking me questions that she hoped would spark an emotion that would create the avalanche. Up until a few moments ago, no question she asked worked.

Questions like, "_Do you understand you murdered someone?"_ and _"You know that you can never take back what you've done?"_ did nothing to stir a reaction. In response I'd simply shrugged.

But then Bonnie changed tactics and the last question she'd asked completely caught me by surprise.

"_How do you feel knowing that you'll never see your brother again?"_

Holy hell, the floodgates were open and my thoughts were drowning me.

_You're alone._

_You'll never see Jeremy again._

_He'll never have the opportunity to grow old._

_Your parents won't be there to see you marry; to see your children._

_You'll never see your parents again._

_You've done this to someone else._

_Stefan will never get married._

_Tyler will never get married._

_Neither will ever have children._

_Damon no longer has a brother._

_Damon will never be able to see his brother grow old._

_He must hate you._

_Damon hates you for what you've done._

_You can never give his family back._

_You're a monster._

_You're a murderer._

_How could you?_

My hands flew to my head and gripped at the sides.

"Stop it!" I screamed, a sob working its way up my chest. "Please, stop it!"

"Elena, take another breath and talk to me! Tell me what's happening right now."

Large tears fell past my lashes and down my face. "Everything!" I cried. "I'm a monster!"

Bonnie crouched in front of me and grabbed my shoulders, trying to get my eyes to meet hers. "This is the moment you need to find the strength to get past these emotions," she said firmly.

"I can't," I sobbed, my head hanging. My gut tensed and flipped as disparaging thoughts continued to swirl around my mind.

_You have no family._

_You deserve no family._

_You deserve everything that's happened to you._

"I do," I agreed. "I deserve this."

"Elena, look at me," Bonnie snapped. "This is why we're here. You can handle this. Repeat after me. I cannot recreate my past."

Another shudder ran through me and a loud sob followed.

She was wrong. I couldn't handle this. I needed Damon. Or drugs.

"Repeat it, Elena! I cannot recreate my past."

I shook my head but forced the words out anyway. "I… cannot… recreate my past."

"I cannot control my future," she continued.

Taking a deep breath and keeping my eyes closed, I repeated," I cannot control my future."

"But I can live for here and now. I am worth it."

The thoughts that haunted me were slowly fading away, my mind becoming more clear, but I her words made no sense to me.

"Bonnie, I can't-"

"Repeat," she interrupted.

I let out a jagged breath, my tears slowly coming to a halt. I ran a hand over my face to wipe them away and I focused on trying to get my breath to return to normal.

"Elena, you need to hear yourself say it. But I can live for here and now. I am worth it."

I sighed and rewrapped my arms around my mid-section. "But I can live for here and now," I heard my weak voice say aloud. "I am…" I closed my eyes as the words caught in my throat. Taking a deep breath, I tried again, "I am worth it."

"Again. All of it."

I opened my eyes to look at her, a new sort of anger filling me, though I wasn't sure why. "I cannot recreate my past. I cannot control my future. But I can live for here and now. I am worth it."

"Again."

"Bonnie," I began to argue.

"Again," she repeated with no room for dispute.

"I cannot recreate my past. I cannot control my future. But I can live for here and now. I am worth it."

"Do you believe the words you're speaking?" she asked.

"No."

"Then again."

"Bonnie, this is stupid!" I shouted, shoving away from the couch and wiping at my face again.

She stood to face me. "The panic attack you just had, Elena, stems from your inability to handle the truth and to handle your emotions. I cannot take away the things you feel and I cannot change what has transpired. Whatever you were thinking earlier _will_ return because of its inevitability. The thoughts are brought on by your truth and that cannot be altered. The only things I can teach you are methods to deal with your truth, your emotions. That begins by you wholeheartedly understanding what I just explained."

Although I was no longer having the attack, my body felt weak and my head felt heavy. I understood what she was saying, but no part of me wanted to accept that there was nothing I could change.

"Can I please just go to bed?" I asked, looking anywhere in the room but at her.

"If you say it again."

I bit my tongue to stop the words I wanted to say.

"Once more and we'll be done for the day, okay?"

Taking a deep breath, I rushed through the mantra. "I cannot recreate my past. I cannot control my future. But I can live for here and now. I am worth it."

"See you tomorrow, Elena," Bonnie smiled, but I didn't reply. Instead, I grabbed my sweater from the table and stomped like a child out the door.

...

Pacing my room, I wrung my fingers together.

How could Bonnie do that to me?

She knew what that question was going to do.

She knew the pain that was going to swell within me and bring me to my knees.

I hated her.

Groaning, I dropped to my bed. No I didn't. I didn't hate Bonnie.

It was just easier to think I hated her than to think she was right.

A quiet knock sounded at my door and I looked to the clock beside my bed. It was time for dinner and as she did every night, Bonnie would be coming in to walk with me to the kitchen.

"Come in," I said, my voice sounding much more groggy than intended. The panic attack must have taken more from me than I thought. "Bonnie, I'm not really sure I feel like having…"

My voice trailed off as _he_ stepped through the door.

My heart skipped a beat and my mouth fell agape. "Damon?"

A large smile grew on his beautiful lips as he rushed across the room and wrapped me in his arms, lifting me from the bed.

"Hi, beautiful," he muttered into my hair, his lips planting soft kisses.

"What… I don't understand," I gasped, pulling away from him to look into his face. "I'm not allowed visitors."

"You had a break-through, I was told," he smiled. "That awards you a visit and field-trip."

"Field trip?" I asked, becoming more confused. Up until now I wasn't even allowed to go outside the grounds with Bonnie. They were just going to let me leave with Damon?

"We have two hours, love. Mustn't waste time." His eyebrow lifted slightly and I caught the sparkle of mischief in his eyes.

Grabbing my hand, he began leading me out of the room and down the hall. I saw Bonnie standing near the nurse's desk and I looked to her for answers. She simply smiled and turned to walk the opposite way.

His car was waiting just beyond the doors and he helped me into the passengers seat.

"Where are we going?" I asked as he climbed in next to me.

"You'll see," he answered cryptically. Reaching over, he grabbed my hand and held it in his lap. Just his touch was amazing and I let out a soft sigh.

...

The ride was quiet, neither of us needing to say anything. I just needed him and to be near him was enough.

The sun was drifting below the horizon as he pulled off the pavement and down a dirt road lined with trees.

My brow furrowed. "Where are you taking me?"

He gave my hand a squeeze and remained silent.

Within a few minutes, the dirt road and trees broadened to reveal a clearing. Resting in the center was a pond with water the crystal clear color of Damon's eyes. The last rays of sunlight dove straight past the surface and into the depths of water. Pastel pink flowers and emerald green grass bordered the pond, swaying gently with the approaching night wind.

The serene sight took my breath away.

Damon left the car and walked around to open my door. Holding my hand, he pulled me from the seat.

"This," he began, "is my tranquility." Guiding me, he walked through the knee-high grass toward the water. "For as long as I can remember, even in my childhood, I have come to this place to find peace. Because that is what it offers. I've never shared it with anyone." He stopped and turned toward me, cupping my face in his hands. "Until now."

"Why now?" I questioned. Damon and I had been together alone many times. We've even lived together. He could've brought me any time he wanted.

"Because you weren't ready before."

I looked up at him and searched for answers in his face. "I don't understand," I admitted.

"This is my tranquility," he repeated. "I find peace here. And until today, you weren't ready to accept peace in your life."

I opened my mouth to respond, then closed it again. Bonnie must've told him more about my session than I thought.

"I know you're not there one-hundred percent," he added, sensing my thoughts. "But all I needed was a piece of you to be ready before I brought you."

I looked down at the ground, a rush of shame heating my face. I still didn't understand. I didn't understand how this place brought peace. I didn't understand how they thought any part of me was ready for peace. I didn't understand how they thought I even deserved it.

His fingers gently bent under my chin as he lifted my gaze. "It's okay, Elena," he said softly. "You won't find what you need here today and maybe not for a while. But eventually, I want this to become your place, too." Without letting me respond, he dipped his head and pressed his lips against mine. Air shuddered out of me as the tenderness of his kiss melted me to my bones.

I lifted my hands to reach for his hair as I parted my lips, yearning for more.

Abruptly, he broke the kiss and began running toward the pond. I watched in breathless wonder as he shattered the moment, stripping his clothes from his body with each step. By the time he was at the ponds edge, he was down to his boxer-briefs and jumping in.

What. The. Hell?

The sun was far below the trees, but Damon had obviously thought ahead and left the headlights of his car on. Water rippled at the surface as he emerged, the car illuminating the drops rolling down his body.

He turned to me and the smile lighting his face was almost boyish.

"Come on!" he shouted, waving his arms to keep himself afloat.

I folded my arms across my chest and shook my head. "No way."

"Elena. Get. In," he yelled, enunciating each word.

"No, thank you!" I shouted back.

My eyes widened as he swam quickly toward the edge and left the water. I knew the plan that was forming in his mind immediately.

I turned and began sprinting for the car. Reaching it first, I tugged frantically at the door handle.

Fucking. Locked.

He clearly had thought ahead on all aspects of our trip.

I spun around as he reached me and couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips. "Damon, no!"

Without warning, his lips caught mine again and he backed me against the car, his hands gripping my waist strongly. In shock, my hands stayed to my sides, unsure of where to grab.

He pressed his pelvis forward and I could feel him through his wet boxer-briefs. The sensation that lit up my belly was almost strange and forgotten.

His hands traveled up my sides to dip under my shirt, tracing the outline of my bra.

I had to pull my head away to force air into my lungs. It had been far too long.

His lips did not pause, but instead wandered to my neck, licking and sucking my skin roughly.

I closed my eyes and let my head fall back to allow him better access. He pulled away briefly to pull my shirt up over my head. As soon as it was on the ground, his lips were back to work, his hand curving around my breast and massaging.

Tingling between my legs began and I let out a soft moan.

His hand fell down my stomach and he let his fingers trace the edge of my loose yoga pants. Very slowly, he kissed his way down my neck and chest, lowering himself before me.

His fingers hooked into my pants and lowered them as well until they were off my legs.

Leaning forward, he pressed a chaste kiss against the edge of my panties.

My skin prickled with excitement.

His hands wrapped around my waist and just as I was expecting him to pull me forward, he instead threw me over his shoulder and stood.

I gasped, a tinge of anger at his ruse sparking inside of me.

"Damnit, Damon!" I yelled. "Put me down!"

He only laughed. "I wasn't asking earlier."

I watched as we moved away from the car and I pounded at his back. "Damon, don't!"

"I love you, baby," he teased.

I sucked in another breath to continue yelling when I was suddenly flying through the air. My legs sunk into the water and I held my breath, closing my eyes as darkness enveloped me. The water was comfortably warm, still clinging to the heat of the days' sun.

Kicking immediately, I swam back to the surface; breaking the water and throwing my head back to avoid my wet hair. I opened my eyes wide and gasped for air. "Damon!"

He laughed a loud, honest laugh, doubling over.

I scoffed at him. "It isn't funny!"

"Oh, yeah. It's very funny," he countered.

Standing straight, he looked at me in the water and the tone of his eyes shifted. "Look at you, love. You're all… wet."

My cheeks heated with a blush. "No, no, no. You had your chance. You chose to throw me in the water."

"Mmm," he mused, his tongue darting out to tug at his bottom lip. "But you're so much more fun when you're angry."

"Damon," I deadpanned, holding up a finger. "Leave me alone," I warned.

His brow lifted. "And if I don't?" His heated eyes narrowed and his sculpted body began stalking toward the pond.

I began swimming backwards and swallowed.

Well, this was going to be interesting.


	31. Epilogue

_My navy sundress swished against my thighs as I walked leisurely along a rooftop, the sun low in the sky and the clouds growing dark with each passing moment. I felt a hand grab my upper arm and when I turned my head to find the source, all of the air in my chest whooshed out. Cold and intense eyes bore into mine and the word "no" choked in my throat. Stefan smiled an evil grin before letting go of my arm. _

_It felt as though there were a string tethered to my body that suddenly snapped. I reached out for nothing in particular as my body fell backward, away from Stefan. Gravity took hold and I knew there was nothing I could do to stop from falling. _

I gasped and startled awake, my heart accelerating to beat in double-time. The sheets were grasped tightly beneath my clenched fist and my eyes were wide as my mind raced to replace the nightmare with reality.

I was okay. I was in bed. A soft breeze blew in from the open window, but there was nothing frightening lurking for me in the night air. Stefan was not – better yet, _could not_ – hurt me again.

Despite my mind reassuring itself that everything was okay, I felt a low ache in my bones as my body's natural defense of wanting to cover up the nightmare with drugs sparked. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. The clean air soothed my soul and the barely there ache slowly faded away. It was easier these days to wash my hands of the yearning.

I felt the bed shift behind me and heard a lazy yawn.

"You okay, babe?"

I focused on taking a few more deep breaths before I spoke. "Yeah," I responded.

Damon moved to press his body against my back, his face nuzzling into my neck. "Everything's okay with the baby?" he asked as his arm reached across my midsection, resting his hand delicately on my protruding stomach.

"Oh. Yeah," I assured him. "I just had a nightmare."

"Again?"

I sighed. I had been fine for over a year. I had worked with Bonnie until all of my nightmares had stopped showing up. I worked with her until I could finally think of my family and, although it still brought me sadness, I wouldn't freak the fuck out. I was able to openly discuss what happened with both Tyler and Stefan without demonizing myself. I was able to finally admit how destructive the drugs had been and how, in the end, they weren't beneficial at all to me.

But shortly after discovering I was pregnant, the nightmares returned. Not nearly as intense as they'd been when I was younger and not covering them up with drugs, but intense enough that even after they woke me, I couldn't shake them from my memory.

Damon kissed just behind my ear. "I'm sorry, love. I wish I could help."

"I know," I said. "I think I may call Bonnie tomorrow. See what she has to say about it."

"That's a good idea," he agreed.

"I might also call Caroline," I continued. "She left a message earlier today about her and Kol wanting us to go out for dinner."

"Sounds good," he agreed once again. "Bonnie would be okay with that?"

I nodded. "She said Caroline has made some amazing process, most of it in thanks to Kol. He brings her back to down to reality more than anything or anyone else ever has."

"Ah," was his response. I could tell he was distracted. He brought his hand up and ran it across my cheek. In the corner of my eye, I could see the gold of his wedding band glint in the pale light. I glanced down at my own simple, yet perfect, matching band on my left hand.

When Damon had asked me to marry him, I was sure he'd lost it. Who in their right mind would want me, in all my fucked-up-complexity, to marry them? Who would want to stick around me that long? I answered that with someone who was masochistic and enjoyed watching train-wrecks. I'd immediately gone to Bonnie and suggested they admit Damon.

And even after I told him no, he was insistent. Relentless, really. We couldn't have a normal conversation without him asking again.

Bonnie had then told me that my unwillingness to accept that someone could _actually_ want to be with me like that, was reflective of how I valued my own self-worth. We spent nearly 3 months concentrating on that flaw.

"I'm sorry I woke you," I said softly. "I'm not sure why the nightmares are returning. It's stupid."

Damon dropped his hand from my face and gently ran it down my side and back up. Goosebumps rose across my flesh. I felt his lips press tenderly to my neck.

"You know, I have a perfect way to make you forget about those nightmares," he whispered against my skin and I smiled. _There_ was another area he was relentless in.

He began kissing down my shoulder, the movement slightly ticklish and I giggled.

Eventually, I'd said yes to Damon and we married on the front lawn of the Mystic Falls Rehabilitation Clinic – just as any non-sane couple would do. But even I had to admit the day had been perfect, despite the hesitance that lingered over my head all the way up to the metaphorical altar.

In the end, there was no denying that I loved him. And there was no denying that I couldn't get away from him even if I'd wanted.

He was mine.

As I was his.

And I would spend my entire existence being uncontrollably and altogether

addicted.

* * *

**A/N:** First, I want to apologize that it took me so long to complete this story. Every time I thought about how I would end it, I would kind of panic about ending it in the wrong way and I could never get the words out.

Then this morning, I woke and the story was suddenly on my mind - when it hadn't been for months. And the words that had eluded me were suddenly there, the pictures forming in my mind so perfectly that I immediately jumped up and wrote the epilogue.

Thank you so much to those still around to finish reading. You have all been a great support-system.

Until next time.

-Athazagoraphobiac


End file.
